Rue

I slowly turn off the warm water and pull the grey ombre shower curtain aside. When I open it I feel the air hit me only slightly cooler than in the shower. I quietly step out grabbing my light grey towel off the hook. I wrap it around myself tucking it under my arm. I put on my lace underwear and bralette both a blush pink set. Then I slip on a silky cool grey robe. I look into the mirror, still too foggy to see my reflection. Instead it’s replaced by a blur of myself. My dark red hair, the color of cherries, falls down my back in loose ringlets. My eyes are pale grey with a tint of electric blue. My skin is pale with a glass complexion. Few bronze freckles dappled across my cheeks and nose. None of this visible in the obscured reflection. Only a faded mirroring. Red and ivory skin are the only things visible even those hazy. I stand still for a moment thinking not really at all. I pull my hair back gently, not bothering with doing it, into a silk scrunchie only wrapping it twice making a loose ponytail. Only enough to keep it out of my way loosely so it doesn’t indent my hair. I twist the silver doorknob and exit the bathroom. Entering my bedroom. Three of the walls pearl white one charcoal grey. The soft upholstered headboard rests against the grey wall. Silk sheets and a fluffy comforter both grey on the bed. An assortment of pillows lay with it. Large poofy pillows and small ones having a variety of textures. A small window opposing the bathroom door. The floor beneath me is soft and the color, a blend between coal and snow, is a gentle grey. I walk towards my bed taking each step slower than the last. I pull the covers down and slide in. I then lean to my nightstand and light a candle that has the fragrance of strawberries. Above me hangs a chandelier with over 1,000 tiny crystals glistening. I pick up my black Chromebook and open it. Once it turns on it opens to the sign-in page. My account is the only one on it. I click on my name Elizabeth Alisee. The password is my birthday May 08, 2003. It’s generic but, there isn’t anything interesting for anyone who might sign in. It’s also easy to remember. I click the green, red, and yellow circle with a blue center and open chrome. I move the mouse to the Reedsy bookmark and open it. It takes me to this week's prompts. The theme is close to home. I scroll through the prompt options to see which one I feel like I could work with best. The first two options are“Write a story about someone who finds a magical portal in their home.” and “Write a story about two neighbors talking from their yards, windows, balconies, etc.” The next two are “Write a story about someone learning how to play an instrument.” and “Write a story about someone posting a video on social media that goes viral.” They all sound like good prompts. I could work with any of them pretty well, but the fifth prompt catches my eye. “Write a story about someone who is working from home and constantly getting distracted by their pet.” Even without talking out loud I feel my voice catch. The emotion is so strong that my inner thoughts pause. I start to feel an ache within my chest. I go blank from the flood of emotions. I can’t even process the feelings that hit me. I get pulled into a memory of just a week ago. Maybe two weeks. I’m not sure really. I mean you would think that something that felt that way would resonate stronger. Like I would never forget the day. It would be burned into my mind, but instead I can’t remember what day it was or what day today is. It’s like that memory gets put on hold though. Like the events have to happen in an order making the pain that much stronger. Crushing my mind with grief. The first memory comes to me. My twelfth birthday comes to mind. I get home from school and head to my room. I see the teal blue envelope lying there on my bed and pick it up. On the outside of the envelope I read the small neat lettering, “Look down.” I’m confused by the way it’s worded until I hear a small yip. There she was. A beautiful St.bernard and Bernese mountain dog mix. She looked to be only 9 weeks old or so. I pick her up and feel her fluffy fur against me. Her adorable smile with her long tongue hanging out. I loved her. I love her. Then other memories flash by of all the time we spent together. Walking her around the block. Laying in bed with her watching tv. Reading a book in the yard with her at my side. She was always at my side. Each week I would enter a Reedsy prompt. Trying to progress my writing skills in hopes of becoming an author. I think of her lying on my lap as I try to write. Getting drool on the computer. Rolling across the bed and sitting her ball in my lap. All she wanted to do was play but, I was too preoccupied with writing to spend the time with her like I should have. Like I wish I had. Like I wish I could right now. Then I see the vet. I see her explaining hip dysplasia. That my baby has it. “This is a diagnosis that is not lethal, so your dog will live a relatively long life even with the diagnosis of dysplasia. Dysplasia is a hip or coxofemoral joint disease and it won't affect the longevity of your dog.” I felt slightly relieved but, I still felt dread filling me inside. The feeling that something is still wrong. That this won’t have the happy ending it appears to claim. As time progressed she was generally the same. However, I paid careful attention and you could see her pain. She was getting slower. Jumping onto my bed was getting harder, so I got her doggy stairs. That only helped with getting on the bed though it didn’t take the problem away of course. We still went on our daily walks though they got shorter. She was as sweet as could be with me. Still my precious baby. My writing had gotten better and I published a novel. It was more popular than I anticipated it would be, so I began the sequel. It took up more and more of my time though. She still sat by my side each day. Always there providing me comfort. One day I realized how wrong I was and how much more I should be appreciating this time. I felt a stomach full of regret. I realized this and got up and went to the car. She followed me just like always and I lifted her into the passenger seat. I sat her favorite tennis ball beside her and got in. We arrived at the dog park just down the road within a few minutes. We get out and are walking down the path. She’s never needed a leash. Always at my side. Everything was fine. Then a little boy walks up and begins to pester her. He is kicking at her legs and getting in her face. I tell him to stop because he’s hurting her. His parents just watch and tell me, “lighten up he isn’t doing anything wrong.” The words that still perplex me. I try to separate him from her and walk away but within only a minute it all falls apart. I didn’t have enough time to get him away let alone process the situation. He actually hurt her. Kicking at her legs the pain visibly there. She snaps at him. She bit his leg just as he went in for another kick. The next memories go by quickly. The courtroom. The judge. The little boy with only 3 stitches in his arm. The injury much less than he deserved and his parents, not even a scratch when they deserve so much more. Then I see her laying on the silver table looking at me. Licking my arm as I hold her paw. I look at her trying to hold it together for her, so she doesn’t get scared. I say things to her about how she’ll be ok. That it’ll all be fine. I look into her sweet big brown eyes. Then I’m putting her in the passenger seat. Her body curled up next to her tennis ball. I kiss her snout and feel the warmth leaving her body. The pain is unbearable. I snap back to reality and realize I’m silently sobbing. The tears are so heavy I can’t get enough of a breath in to have an audible sob. I feel the pain through every inch of my body. I curl into a ball and the sobs try to pour out. Everything is blurry. My face is wet from all the tears falling. I can only make out one word. The name inspired by my favorite novel. I begin crying it out into the sniffles and sobs.”Rue.”