Dreams and Guilt

Sometimes, in the chill of a young autumn evening, Bridgette could smell bonfires in the distance. It was funny, she knew, that she lived here in the city suburbs. Growing up in such a small town, she’d never imagined herself surrounded by so many people. But she could picture it now with her sweet husband and little baby at her side.

On Sundays, they sat together as a family. When Emma got older, they would have game nights (Bri had decided this long ago, when her own parents implimented game night, and she quickly realized just how important being close to family is). For now, entertaining the baby with jingling toys and joyful movies would do.

“I love you,” said Darren.

Bri lifted her eyes from the infant to meet his. She smiled, the old rush of love and lust coming back to her heart and brushing her cheeks with blush.

“I love you too,” she said as Emma reached out and took her finger in her small hand. It was a dream. There was nothing more in this world that she could ever ask for than this right here.

“I’m gonna head to bed.” Darren stood, his hand trailing through Bri’s hair as he went. “Want me to take Dag up too?”

She glanced over at Dag, sound asleep on the couch. He was getting old now. It hurt her chest to know that someday, someday soon, he would be gone. “No, leave him be. He’s comfortable.”

“Okay, sweetie.” And like that, Darren was gone, leaving Bri alone with Emma and Dag.

It had become a routine, and it wasn’t a bad one by any means. But there were times, seldom times of course, when Bri would wonder what more she could get out of this world. She wondered if a quiet life in a nice house with a nice family was all she was meant for, even if it was all she wanted.

Did it make her a bad wife? Mother? She wondered…she doubted herself. Her eyes drifted to Dag again, and she knew without a doubt that she was okay. No matter what Bri thought of herself, Dag was always there to give her a loving nudge and convince her otherwise. Still, she wondered…

Bri sat by the window. Cotton candy clouds danced against a darkening sky. The trees surrounding her cabin waved hello, struggling against the heavy wind. It was cold today. She knew it without stepping foot outside.

The front door swung open, and the young girl’s head snapped to the sound. In a whirl of brown fabric and blonde hair, her friend and guardian rushed inside. It wasn’t uncommon for Julie to look panicked when she returned from hunts, but the look of fear in her eyes startled Bri enough to stand, the wound in her leg pulsing.

“We have to go,” Julie announced, not looking at Bri. She dropped a dead bird on the table, tossing down her bow beside it. Then, she made her way to the back bedroom.

Bri could hardly keep up. She limped her way down the hall, each step a painful reminder of why they didn’t cross into the mountains to the south.

“What’s happened?” Bri asked. “Where’s Dag?” She stepped into the frame of the door, watching as the only person she’d trusted in five years pulled out their emergency bags and hurriedly packed a few more things.

Julie’s hands hesitated with the clothes. Her eyes flickered up to meet Bri’s; they burned like fire in the light of the dying sun. “Dag didn’t make it, but we can’t worry about that now. The hunters are coming, and they know you’re here.”

The world came caving in on Bri, like a cardboard box in the rain. She was soft all over—molding. But this, she reminded herself now as she often did, was merely a roadblock, not the end of it all. So, she stepped forward and got to work helping Julie pack.

Before long, the two were on their way through the trees. Pine needles landed on Bri’s thick coat, and the wind whipped her face, blowing her dusty hair every which way.

This would be the fourth time they had to move locations since the start of the apocalypse, but the first without Dag.

It wasn’t often Bri gave much thought to the afterlife. But she had to hope, as she imagined most people did, that those she loved would make it to someplace better…warmer…kinder. And she could picture him, sweet Dag who’d never crossed another, in a world of white, happy and smiling.

Part of Bri knew that she was the one who was meant to be in a place like this. For a brief moment, she was alone, but at least the guilt in her chest was gone.

He was there with her now. They sat together as they always had, her hand scratching his head without a word. But this time, for the first time ever, she didn’t feel the need to say a thing. There were no more problems for her to confide in with him. There was no more pain for her to cry into him over. She wasn’t missing a leg.

There was he. And there was she. And there was bliss.

***

The bell rang. Bridgette’s hand dropped from where it’d been resting under her chin as she was torn away from her daydreams. Her classmates were packing up the last of their things to leave as she sat there, recalibrating.

She hadn’t meant to miss out on her entire calculus class. But the longing for love and for adventure and for her best friend left her mind in the clouds more often than not.

Bri checked her phone as she shoved her books in her bag. She was greeted by her home screen: an image of the gray and white face of a border collie, brown speckles around large, dark eyes.

She rubbed the nub of where her leg should’ve been. If it weren’t for that stupid dog thinking he was so much bigger and stronger than he truly was, she would have lost her life along with her leg. But that was years ago, and she’d become accustomed to many things now. She was used to hopping, and she was used to the crutches. She was even used to her false, metal leg, as much as she hated to use it. But she still struggled to come to terms with one thing.

Dag wouldn’t be home to greet her today, nor would he ever again. But at the very least, she had solace that he would be there to greet her when she let her head drift too far off in the sky. He would always be there in her dreams. He would always give her that little nudge, telling her from so far away that she would be okay.