I want no part of it.
I sigh, my body sliding down with a dull thump and I blink slowly at six words. Only six words. Words that disturb, words that worry. It isn’t fair, I think. And it isn’t. Nothing is fair about it and I can’t do anything about it.
“Why not?” I say to nothing in particular. But I know.
I am shaking.
I stand up quickly, as if I am strong only if I stand, and I play with a toy in front of my hand. It is a car. It has black paint on it with sparkling gold highlights. It is small and it will not hurt. It is a toy. I put it down and turn away.
As I look away, I spot a small toy animal. I pick it up. It is a dog, and it is soft and fluffy. It looks cuddly, and I touch it soothingly, tickling its furry body, noticing its long silky gray hair. It is starting to fall apart, but I can’t throw it away. Not now. I put it down, wistfully watching both toys. An odd choking sound starts from my throat.
I am crying.
I try to stop, but I can’t, and I shift uncomfortably.
Today I saw a dog run down a road. It was running wildly down, a crazy look in its motions, its mouth hanging down. I saw it running and I was shouting to it, trying to distract it. A small boy was following it, calling his dog back with, “Jack! Jack!” But Jack was ignoring him.
A truck hit him.
Jack was thrown two yards away and I saw blood. I stood, watching, finally looking at Jack’s boy, a normally shy boy known as Carl. Now Carl was panicky. “My dog! My dog!”
“Don’t worry,” I said, giving Carl a quick hug. “Don’t cry!”
But Carl couldn’t stop.
Traffic was slowing. I snuck out cautiously and brought back Jack. His limp body was oddly warm, but his body was bloody.
“Is Jack --?” But Carl didn’t finish. His lip was quaking.
“I’m afraid so,” I said shakily. Jack’s fur was so soft and silky. Blood was coming from his mouth.
And I could do nothing.
I look at it again.
Carl,
I'm sorry about Jack.
Katrina
Six words. Only six words. I am worn out.
I sigh, and put it in a mail slot.
Gender:
Points: 3491
Reviews: 3821