truthonwheels | nvn - {The Big Apple}
Normally, Abigail would have stuck to her roots. Only going as far as Freddie Lounds where journalism was considered. But normalcy had never truly taken up a permanent home in her life.
One of the women at the facility had let it slip how she had planned to tell her story to some place as big as The New York Times. How someone in such a small town wouldn't be able to touch her story because it was meant for greater eyes. This hit Abigail like a stone and she had lost hours of sleep thinking about what exactly she had expected to get out of her story being out in the world.
The truth. Was what she kept reminding herself. This story was to help the world or anyone who would ever have any doubts about her know that she hadn't helped her father -- though the truth was the complete opposite. She was a survivor and in order to continue living the life she wanted to lead, she had to get her lies out to a bigger audience and maybe -- just maybe -- the woman had a point.
Her story needed something bigger, better.
Climbing the wall hadn't taken long, neither did packing up a few things before heading out. The bus ride however. She knew it wouldn't be wise to take anyone's car, she needed to be as natural and seemingly invisible as possible. Which included using any bit of spare change she could find in the boxes of her belongings that she had to her name.
After almost four hours had passed, she climbed off of the bus and out onto the busy streets of Manhattan. Pushing her panic aside she moved along the endless sea of regular people leading their normal lives. The fact that it all seemed like a day to day basis caught her off guard, was this truly what it felt like to be one in a million? Someone no one knew. Surely no one here knew her, surely she was safe.
As safe as she could be in a place she had no clue how to navigate through.
After finding one young woman who didn't look at her like she was a freak, she found her way to the headquarters of the New York Times newspaper and maybe starstruck would have been an understatement. Overwhelmed might have been too.
She wanted to reach out and grab her father's hand, anyone's hand and have them tell her it would be okay. She would do just fine and there was nothing to be scared of. But that moment was not going to come anytime soon. Maybe a letter addressed to the building would have been less of a hassle, it sure as hell would have been easier on her nerves.
But showing up, scarf around her neck and determined said something about her. At least she thought it would.
Marching into the building took a little more courage than she had thought it would, but her body had switched to autopilot. She was no longer driving this plane -- her survival instincts were.
Once inside, reality hit her in the face. She had no clue where to go or what to do. Hadn't even thought it through.
