My Abigail

Hello folks, thanks for checking out my blog. Today’s Sunday Snippet is from David Kummer and his book My Abigail.

From David

My name is David Duane Kummer. I’m a freshman in high school, with a published novel and a collection of short stories.

I’ve been writing since I was young, with As Trees Turned Away being my first published work and She being my first published novel. Along with writing, I am an avid reader and watcher of all things horror, and enjoy writing reviews on them for others who might want to know my opinion on them.

When I’m not writing, I enjoy talking with my hilarious friends and amazing girlfriend, spending time with my loving family, watching movies, and working out to burn all of the calories I get from binge-eating Hawaiian Rolls. Those things are really addicting, am I right? I’d rather get payed in those than money.

I would love to get to know you better, so email me at davidkummer7@gmail.com.

Snippet of My Abigail:

The movie ended later than I had anticipated. My plan was to drop Abigail off at her house, but she insisted on walking back alone.
“How come?” I asked.
“I’m not even going home tonight. I’m spending the night at a friend’s house.”
“Which friend?”
She shrugged. “Whoever will let me stay.”
I was confused, and certain that it showed on my face. “You don’t know where? You’re just gonna walk until someone invites you in?”
“More or less.” She smiled. “But don’t you worry. I do it alot.”
I wasn’t sure what to say, so I nodded. “I guess I’ll just trust you.”
“Oh, and one other thing.”
“Yeah?” I asked. What now?
“Take a different route home.”
“What do you mean?”
She smiled, but I could tell it was a serious subject. “Don’t go past my house. And don’t go down that area, either. Take a different way.”
“How come?”
She didn’t answer. Abigail just walked off mysteriously, directly towards the busy street where cars flew past.
“I don’t know any other routes!” I called.
“Find one,” she yelled.
I watched in horror as she calmly strolled into the oncoming traffic.
Still going at the same, steady pace, she passed between the cars perfectly. Horns blared as cars screeched to a halt, but she kept going unperturbed. It made me shiver, just watching. Finally, she reached the other side and carried on down the road.
As she carried on, I expected her to turn onto the street where she lived, since I assumed most of her friends lived there. Instead, she kept walking, passing it by. Never looking back, never waving. Never going faster or slower.
“Creepy,” I said, trying not to linger on it. “Now… how am I gonna get home?”
I thought about ignoring what she’d said and taking my normal route. But the way she had said it -and acted afterwards- got me pretty freaked out. I turned and walked in the opposite direction. Anything to get away.
It was nearly dark, and my uncle would be furious at me when I got home late. He would probably think we were having sex somewhere. But at least I wouldn’t face whatever consequences lay on her street.
I wish she would have told me.