Missing Piece

I shoved the box off my lap, groaning out loud about the line of boxes still waiting.

It seems like so much fun to pack things up to move into a new, bigger room in the house. But trust me, it's a grueling process.

"You don't need to switch rooms if this is to much for you," my sister smirked.

I glared at her, looking up from my work for a second. I didn't want to start anything. I had enough to deal with.

I was moving in the storage room. It was bigger then my room, so we were switching it around. So that means I was the one who had to go through all the garbage and junk in the storage room.

"Fun!", I said in my head.

I grabbed the next box in line, trying not to think about how many more I had left. This box was a box full of pictures. I usually took more time on these boxes, wanting to look at all the pictures fully, to enjoy the memories.

I went though embarrassing pictures of me, my sister, family photos, road trips.... all the normal stuff.

But when I set the last family photo in the keep pile, I grabbed the next picture my hand touched. I went to set it down, until something caught my eye.

It was obviously an old photo, but of who, I didn't know. Something glinted on the back of the photo. I turned it around. There was a note, in small elegant cursive.

It read:

Love you, see you again.

-For my daughter.

When you get this, I want you to look for this:

There was a small symbol.

When you find this, write me back.

I flipped the photo three times in my hand, back and forth from the front and back. I tried to think of something that would trigger in my memory.

"Whattcha' got there?," my sister asked.

"Ummm," what was a good excuse?, "nothing," I lied. How brilliant, of course she wouldn't swallow that.

She looked me up and down, "mhm."

She looked back to the bookshelf for a second and I threw the picture behind me. When she looked back to me, I put my hands up and made my eyes look extra innocent. "See, nothing."

She rolled her eyes, but went back to examining and organizing the books.

I huffed out in relief. I grabbed the picture from behind me. I turned my back from my sister and said, "I have to go the bathroom, be right back."

The lighting wasn't the best in here, maybe I would have a better chance at seeing it in a different light.

"Okay."

I ran to my room instead of the bathroom, I made sure to lock my door. I set the picture under my small desk lamp, hoping to get a better look. I sat there, staring at it until I finally realized the features. I felt the blood leave my face when I saw who it was. I barely even knew him.

It was my grandpa. He left my mom when she was less then ten years old. She never meant to talk bad about him in front of me, but she let it slip one day, not knowing I was to close. After that I tried not to talk to him, though it was hard. He was a great guy, and I loved him. But after he doesn't treat you like family, how can you just set that aside and pretend that it doesn't make you stiffen at the name?

I missed him so much. I barely remembered him. I was young when I saw him last, but he was one of my favorite people.

Tears of anger started to well up in my eyes. How was this fair? Why do people have to be so cruel? It doesn't seem right, but that's just the way it is.

And I didn't like the way it is.

But there was something off about the photo, it was missing an edge. The picture had been ripped apart, all that was left was an arm of whoever else was in the picture.

I needed to find that other edge.

I went back to the storage room. My sister gave me a look.

"What?," I asked, giving myself a once over. Nothing looked wrong, I hadn't changed.

"Nothing," she raised her eyebrows annoyingly like she does, then turned her back to me.

Fine if she was going to be that way, I had better things to look for.

I pawed through the whole pile of pictures, trying to find something that looked like the other edge.

But after about thirty minutes, I had found nothing.

"There has to be something!," I muttered to myself. There had to be, right?

How conspicuous that it was missing an edge, when my grandpa just so happened to be in the center of the photo.

I turned the photo to the back again. I saw something else. A location and a date.

Seattle, WA. 10/24/95

I lived really close to Seattle, no more then a few miles out. 10/24 was my birthday... but not the year. I was younger then that. But weird that I happened to find this, weird that the date is my birthday... it didn't make sense. This was for my mom, not me. But I don't think I found this on accident.

The symbol drawn on the back was a small pawprint. How weird that I happened to come across this while my dog is on the edge, in need of medical support.

Was this all on accident? Or is it some strange coincidence.

I wanted to block this from my memory. Never to think of it again. I wanted to find the rest of the image just to know what the significance of the paw was.

I flipped though the junk pile of the pictures I'd looked though already, maybe I'd thrown it away?

After I looked for awhile, I found a small piece of the broken picture. It was the rest of the person standing next to my grandpa, but there was still more to it, I could tell.

This person, I didn't know at all.

I needed to find the rest of the picture, did I dare go into Seattle to try and find the paw symbol?

There was only one major place I would think I would find this symbol in Seattle. My grandpa had been all about monuments I guess.

The Space Needle. I would look there first.

Wait- when was I going to do this? I couldn't drive... I would never have my mom take me, my sister can't drive either. I would have to sneak out and just walk.

I was never much of a person to sneak out or break the rules period, but we lived close enough to Seattle that I could say I'm going with some friends tomorrow, say that I'm going for a day trip. Surely I wouldn't get in trouble then, right?

I sighed.

I stood up, then I thought..

"Hey sis," I asked.

"Yeah?"

"What time is it?"

"Uhh, almost ten in the afternoon."

"Perfect," I muttered under my breath. That meant I could go pack my stuff and go out soon.

"I'm tired," I lied to her. "I'm going to bed."

"Okay, goodnight."

"'Night."

I ran upstairs to my old room, stopping to give my mom a hug on the way.

I locked my door, grabbing the small bag I had stocked away in my closet. I grabbed everything I thought I might need, the picture, a water bottle, maybe my camera?

I could hardly sleep with all my anxiety, so I paced instead. It didn't really help, so I climbed into bed and fidgeted.

I felt the common hollow ache I got when I'm anxious. It made me clutch my hand over my stomach, and try not to throw up.

I laid down and tried to steady my rapid breathing.

I finally slipped into unconsciousness.

~~~

When I woke, I woke with a gasp, trying to recover from my dream. It was strange, it was my grandpa, placing all the clues that would lead me here. Not my mom, not my sister, not anybody else. Me.

I grabbed my bag, checking I had everything I needed for my day trip.

I threw some bread in the toaster. My mom caught me while I was eating.

"Where are you going?"

"Uh, is it alright if I go to Seattle for a day trip?," I asked.

She shrugged. "I don't care, as long as you're home by dark. And you update me," she smiled.

I looked at her smile, wondering how someone would want to leave a person with such smile.

I sighed, "I will."

I stood up and kissed my mother on the cheek. I will make this right for her. I didn't know how, I didn't know what was waiting for me. I just had to try.

"Love you," I whispered as I walked away.

It wasn't a long walk to Seattle as I had thought. I carried the half photo in my hand, it was getting more wrinkly as my sweat softened it and my grip ruined it.

I finally made it to the Space Needle. I found just what I was looking for.

I grabbed my notebook and a pen and began writing down what I saw in the area. What would this have meant to my grandpa?

I saw a small paw print-exactly like the one my grandpa had put on the back of this photo-etched lightly into the side of the tower.

I recorded what side it was on, what way the front nail was pointing.

It was pointed to the side, as if wanting me to go that way. I went that way, slowly, not trusting it completely. I found another one not to long after that, etched into a tree.

Then again, and again, all pointing me to the next one. Finally it started to lead me into the forest.

Then it pointed down. I walked in a circle around the tree not finding anything. It was almost dark now, so I grabbed a flashlight. I looked around then, ah, under a fern I found a green tin that blended in nicely with the tall grass.

I sat against the tree trunk and unscrewed the top from rest of it. My hands were shaking.

I took a deep breath, then looked inside.

I saw the familiar paper of the photo I had been holding.

I took out the rest of the picture and put the pieces together. There was now three men on the page, one being my grandpa, and a dog.

The dog looked familiar. We had taken care of this dog until it had passed. Ironically I found this when my dog now was having problems.

I turned the new addition to my photo over, it had a note.

I'm sorry.

Please take care of my dog.

My mom had easily taken my grandpa's dog under her wing. Not because it was my grandfather's beloved dog, but because my mom couldn't let the dog go to a shelter.

In the tin, there was a few more things.

A dog collar, medicine for the dog, and a badge.

Why couldn't we have found this when we still had the dog? Now we had a lab, with lung problems. We still don't know the outcome of her tests yet. We don't know how long we have.

My grandpa's dog died of the same type of lung inflammation that out lab has. This was the medicine for it..

I jumped up, not realizing that I was crying until I was running for home. I needed to save our dog. I had a hard time getting unattached from things because it takes me so long to get attached. I had to make it right.

I made it home, practically crashing the door down when I entered. My mom, who had been doing something in the kitchen, jumped slightly. She turned, and she looked like she was going to be mad at me because I was home after dark. But then she saw I was crying. "What is it?!"

I ran up to her, placing all my evidence down on the counter, taking a step back so she could look at what I just had.

She looked through all the stuff, then turned to me. "What?," she said in small voice. "What does that mean?"

I hadn't really come up with a conclusion for her.

Now that I had all the evidence... I hadn't given it much thought. Me and the dog ironically ended up with the same name, that picture had been taken on my birthday, and the dog had died a couple weeks before my birthday.

This was some creepy crap going on. Me and the dog had to have something in common, something just wasn't right. It was also weird that this dog starred in most of my dreams, but I didn't truly start remembering things until the dog had died.

Was I part of this dog? How- when- what?!

Was this my second life? The dog was dying when we had it, and then when it died, I had become more... alive.

Was this dog me? Was I this dog?

I felt dizzy.

"Excuse me!," I said, running to my room, leaving my mom with all the stuff on the table.

I also had followed behind my grandpa like a little puppy. But I thought that was because I looked up to him, because he was my model, up until I heard what really was up with my mom's side of the family.

Was there something wrong with me now?

I didn't know the answer. I had no idea what was going to happen now. Would I die of lung disease?

WHAT WAS HAPPENING?

As months went by I didn't have an answer. Would I die without an answer?

It wasn't until a couple of years later that they found out I did have a lung disease. I didn't have long to live.

I connected with dogs in my short period of time left, and I dreamt that if I happened to come back, that none of this freaky crap would follow me.

Or maybe this had all been a coincidence. I didn't care.

All I knew is that when the monitor went silent on the bed next to me, I swore that I saw my grandpa's dog on the foot of my bed, waiting to welcome me into the doors of heaven.