Page 104 of My Sweet Dollie, You Have to Love Me
Standing in the backyard, her long legs wrapped around my waist, she stares up at me, this gangly dog who refuses me each time I try to push her down.
Her nails jab into my skin every so often, pulling me from the safe space in my mind, where I sit in a black hole with no one and nothing around.
Bubbles’ attention-seeking cries don’t make it through the dense darkness around me until her nails catch my skin again, scraping over a scar I traced a few days back and ripping it open.
I gasp with the realization that blood is on my fingers as I press the wound with a feather-soft touch and attempt to push Bubbles down again.
Her owner passed away about an hour ago, and this dog has been clingy ever since.
The woman lasted longer than the nurses thought. They predicted two days. It’s been three. Three days where I’ve avoided Dollie, who now lives solely on the lounge, surrounded by all her favorite things, making it so hard to get in and out of the house unheard. Like last night after work.
It was so much easier when she slept in the living room.
But she doesn’t stay in there alone for some reason, and Annabelle is still away.
Nyx has stopped by. He’s the one who fixed the wall, and I curse him for it because I can no longer keep a close eye on Dollie. I can only hear her singing to herself or talking to Duggan with that wall between us.
The distance should be something I worship because I’m aware of the lines I’m crossing. The ones I haven’t crossed yet, I want to, so I can be with her.
Yeah, the distance… we should have more of it.
But today, she’ll know I’m home, thanks to our new house guest.
Bubbles’ fur soothes me as nerves attempt to bubble in my stomach. Pun not intended.
The desire to retreat to my black hole is tempting. Everything ceases to exist down there—my fears, the noise in my head, it all slips away. I’d stay there forever if I could, that place where even my demons can’t find me.
A sigh of confusion lets air out from my lungs, and fog appears in front of my face, distorting the grassy field ahead.
I have no idea how to feel, lingering here now that the nurses are gone and the undertaker hasn’t arrived.
His instructions wait in the living room, along with the body for collection. They sit in a wax-sealed envelope, and another of those is clutched and crumpled tightly in my hand.
One of the nurses told me of it, sitting on the mantle after I broke free of Mrs. Bannadosi’s hand. She’d taken her last breaths joined to me. I didn’t want her touching me—never again after the last time, but when her brittle fingers wrapped around the burns on my wrist, I froze. Disgust was present from the start, sending me into my hole as soon as I got out of that room.
Staring at the envelope, the rain comes from nowhere, soaking it until I hide it in my jacket’s inner pocket.
Bubbles’ legs stay locked around my waist, the awful weather not fazing her today. She’s not ready to leave my side, and I’m not ready to open the envelope.
Not ready to admit that I feel something… sadness, anger. Whatever it is, it’s stronger than ever.
I just need to get the fuck away from here.
I shouldn’t have been the one to do this. To sit with the woman in the house behind me on her dying days.
A car pulls up in the front yard driveway, ending my misery with two doors clicking shut. A quick glance around shows me the long black hood of the funeral car.
Relief washes over me as the raindrops fall onto my face, masking my tears.
As if she knows I’m leaving, and she’s coming too, Bubbles releases her tight grip, and we walk into the house together.
Time to close this chapter.
Stepping into my house, a big bag of dog food in hand, rainwater dripping from my hair and nose, I steady my breathing.
Things are still not right inside me. The need to escape is persistent.
My wet clothes stick to every muscle and bone as I struggle to slide my key into the lock and turn it.
