Monique

As a little girl, she was full of energy and resounding laughter. She always wore the biggest smile, and she surrounded herself with friends. The air was sweet, the sun always bright, and she never had a care in the world. Life was good.

As a teenager, things changed. Her parents divorced, and her grades slipped. Friends turned to bullies, and teachers turned a blind eye. She no longer smiled. She sat in the back corner of the room, head down, wishing the day would end. She longed for these years to be over, and they had only just begun.

The years stretched on, ever slowly. Scars etched their way onto her skin, haphazardly covered with long sleeves and Vaseline. She had no friends now, no one to turn to. Her parents loved her, but they were distant, never seeing her pain. She never wanted them to, anyway.

At sixteen, she was just so very tired. Tired no longer meant in need of sleep. She was tired in the sense that her first thought when she awoke each morning was that she didn’t want to be awake at all, that her bones felt heavy with every step she took, and her lungs were exhausted with every breath she heaved. Life was empty and cold and far too much work for what it was worth.

She walked home from school, alone and cold from the bitter winter’s chill. She could not feel the harsh sting on her face, just as she could not feel the pain that still dwelled deep within her. She had numbed herself to life’s unpleasantries at this point.

The sun hid itself behind the clouds, and she wished she could do the same. To be able to fly up into the soft expanse of the sky and simply disappear, that was the dream these days.

A soft whimper caught her attention. She almost ignored it and continued on her path, but something tugged at her heart. It was something she had not felt in so long, a feeling other than this crushing emptiness inside.

She glanced around, trying to find the source of the sound. She began to think she had imagined it when she heard it again. The leaves of a bush crinkled next to her. Cautiously, she stepped forward, curiosity swelling in her chest.

She lifted a branch, pulled back another, and there she saw it. A little puppy was hiding beneath the bush, curled into a protective ball and whimpering softly into its paws.

She felt something then, something new. Concern pricked at her heart, pity lodged itself in her throat, and a fire burned within her gut. The flames that licked at her insides, igniting her heart and pumping through her veins, was something she had never known, but she knew exactly what it was.

The urge to protect this little puppy was too strong for her to ignore.

Crouching beside it, she whispered soothing noises as she reached a tentative hand out to pet its fur. The animal jumped at her touch but made no move to pull away. Another soft whimper fell on her ears, and ever so gently, she scooped the puppy into her arms.

The puppy was very small, too small to be alone like this, but looking around, she saw no sign of the puppy’s family. There was not a house around for miles, and she worried that the little animal had been thrown out to die.

Anger welled within her chest, but it was extinguished as quickly as it came as the creature let out another whine and snuggled deeper into her arms.

She softened, curling over the puppy in an attempt to bring it more warmth. She made up her mind and stood, cradling the animal to her chest as she continued her journey home.

When she arrived home, she brought the puppy into her room and wrapped it in a nest of blankets. She petted its little white head and whispered sweet nothings to it before going to the kitchen.

She retrieved a can of evaporated milk and poured it into a small bowl.

She stepped back into the bedroom to see the puppy still curled into a ball, but its big brown eyes were staring up at her, more aware than when she had found it.

She smiled at the creature and gently sat beside it, offering the bowl of milk. The puppy sniffed the edge of the bowl with hesitation but came closer to lap at the milk.

She felt relief as the puppy became more enthused and quickly drank its meal.

Weeks passed, and she and the puppy grew close. Her mother had been hesitant to allow the puppy to stay, but when she saw the smile on her daughter’s face, she could not resist.

Today was the day she had chosen a name for the little puppy, excitement buzzing through her veins.

Monique.

The puppy seemed to love it, barking joyously as she spoke it to her again and again.

Her mother watched with a smile as her daughter showered Monique in love and attention.

She was seventeen now, and life was still hard. Bullies still pushed her around and called her names. Her father became even more distant and no longer listened to her side of things. She still struggled with school.

Things had changed, though. She made a few friends, low in number but high in love. She and her mother grew closer, bonding over Monique as they rubbed her belly and scratched behind her ears. Her grades were improving with each day, and she no longer lay in bed each morning wondering why her heart continued to beat.

Life was hard, but it was worth it. Her little puppy’s wide grin as they ran together through the back yard was proof enough for her.

Ten years passed, filled with love and laughter and overwhelming joy. She learned how to smile again, how to laugh with all her being. She learned how to feel again and how to handle the pain that life still sometimes brought her way.

Monique grew up to be healthy and strong, and she was always happy with her human friend.

They took on the world together and made a life they were both proud of, and when it came time for Monique to take her final breaths, she was by her side.

She held her closest friend to her chest, rubbing circles into her soft fur, and whispered soothing words into her ears. Monique’s eyes were already glazed over, her heart rate steadily dropping, but she still smiled at her voice.

She smiled down at her little puppy, all grown up, and placed a final kiss against her nose.

Ten years was not nearly enough, but they were beautiful years.

She would never trade them for the world.