New readers, start here: 1. Survivor
It’s snowing. Garrett warned me about the weather, but Ranger needed the walk. There was a clearing in the woods where I let him off the leash, and now he romped and ran in circles. Tongue lolling. Joyous barking. Graceful leaping.
I didn’t care about the mud. It’s why I had the carpets ripped out of the house and replaced with flooring more suitable for mud-loving dogs. What Garrett couldn’t understand was why I went “too far” to make sure my dog was happy, healthy, and comfortable.
He didn’t know what I was like before Ranger.
He didn’t believe that Ranger saved me. He didn’t say that. But he made it obvious in other ways.
Does the dog have to sleep on the bed? He gets right between us. Why does his food cost so much? He eats better than we do. I know he’s important to you, but I should be important to you, too.
I wanted a friend for Ranger. He was lonely on those days that I … I … did something. I shake my head, feel the snowflakes melt on my skin. I forgot my gloves and the inner pockets of my coat aren’t doing much to keep my hands from freezing.
A friend for Ranger. Yes. A puppy, maybe. Garrett was against the idea. He’d had no choice about Ranger. We’d been a package deal. And Garrett had moved into my house.
I’ll get another dog if I want, I said, ending yet another argument. Garrett shrugged, and said, “Fine.”
Like he had a choice. A say in what I did or didn’t do. Ever since he moved in, our relationship has felt uneven. A relationship is about compromise. Who told me that? I’m not sure. But they’re wrong.
Maybe Garrett sensed my regret about allowing him into my bed, my house, my life.
He’d been softer lately. Maybe he knew we didn’t fit, either.
I wanted him to leave.
I wanted to feel safe again.
Behind me, the crack of wood. Ranger starts barking, streaking toward me.
I haven’t turned, but I know someone is behind me.
“Go,” I yell at Ranger. I see the indecision, milliseconds as he thinks about disobeying me. He’s been trained. Trained very well. I made sure. “Go!” I yell again. He wheels around and darts into the woods.
I feel the strong arm slip around my neck. “Hello, sweetheart,” whispers a man’s voice in my ear.
I close my eyes.
Thank you for reading REMEMBER, a micro-fiction novel experiment.
Upgrade your subscription to gain full access to all of my Pretty Evil Fiction.
Nice Segway into the past. If Ranger was trained to attack, I'm surprised she told him not to. It's almost as if she surrendered without a fight.
Cant wait for the rest!!