Page 5 of Promised to the Nightmare Realm
I take in the puddle in the corner with a dose of acceptance, because it’s my fault I didn’t take the puppy out when it needed to go. But potty training starts now.
I realize Richie took all the other puppies, and I’m about to write to him in panic, but then I realize that could incriminate us both. I can’t believe we did that. We broke into someone’s shed and stole the dogs. No wonder I ended up with some kind of psychotic break. I’m the law-abiding type and never do anything like that.
Maybe… calling would be safer? I don’t think the phone is recording all my conversations. I choose Richie’s number.
“Come on… come on… come on…” I mutter to myself, hugging the clingy rottie. My heart is beating so fast I worry I might once again fall into the ‘Nightmare Realm’.
“Nate! Is that you?” he finally answers, sounding frantic.
I sink against the wall as the puppy rolls in my lap and starts scratching its side with its hind leg. “Who else would it be?”
“I… I don’t know. Are you okay?”
Maybe I judged him too harshly? He seems rattled. In the chaos of last night, I could have misunderstood his actions. Maybe he just wanted to get the puppies to safety? After all, hedidgo with me in the first place.
“I’m fine. I’m glad you’re okay. Are they with you?” I ask so only he knows what I’m talking about, and in the unlikely case the FBI is recording us, they’ll have nothing on me.
“What? No! Seven damn puppies, Nate!” I guess Richie isn’t as security-conscious as me. He takes a shivery breath. “I left them at the shelter. What else was I supposed to do?”
A cold sensation spreads in my gut. “They’d ask questions!”
“Yeah, I told them you told me to get them there, since you volunteer there.”
I utter a broken sound, and the rottie climbs my chest, licking my chin with its wet tongue. “You didwhat? We were meant to be anonymous about it!”
“Well, you weren’t there! I told you to follow me to the car!”
“I would have if you bothered to help me,” tears out of my chest with an amount of regret I didn't expect. But now that it started flowing, so do my tears. I could have died last night and he… what, returned home, hoping it won’t be traced back to him? Why do I have such horrible taste in men?
“Listen, I’m glad you’re okay, but I have to go now. We’ve got a frat meeting about tonight in five.”
I open my mouth, but hehangs up.
I slam my head back, but the tapestry is a cheap product and doesn’t have enough density to protect me from the pain. “Ow, ow, ow,” I mutter as the puppy licks my face, its tail wiggling as if all is good in the world. I suppose it is in his… wait, is he even a male?
I hold him behind the front paws and gently raise its body to deny my assumption.
“You’re one lucky girl…”
I don’t even know what to do about Richie, so I decide to ground myself in reality. I have a puppy that needs care and attention. Luckily, I have some doggie snacks and puppy pads left from the time I fostered, but I need to introduce the pup to grass.
There’s no point in changing before I shower, so I quickly clean the spill on the floor, put my new charge in a semi-stylish harness-and-leash set, and carry her outside. I live in the first floor, so within less than a minute, I lower her to the ground.
“What should I call you?” I mutter, snorting when the puppy keeps her legs stiff as if they’re sticks. Poor thing has never been outside… no wonder she finds the grass overwhelming.
The day is chilly, since it’s October, but the sun is so bright I end up pulling on the hood of my new cloak. I feel a bit silly in it, but it’s Halloween, so I’m sure anyone who sees me will assume I’m in costume. I’ve dabbled with LARPing as a teen, but it wasn’t my thing despite my love of fantasy novels.
I absentmindedly stroke the inside of the garment as I watch the puppy explore. It’s of such good quality. This isn’t some flimsy polyester thing. Did I… steal it from somewhere when running away? Dread fills me at the very idea.
The window next to mine opens and my roommate peeks out, face covered with a layer of blue makeup. She’s probably trialling a look for the party she’s going to later. “Nate? Is that you?” Viola asks in her thick Italian accent, and it feels likedéjà vufromthe conversation with Richie. “I didn’t hear you come back last night.”
I don’t remember much about last night either, but I’m not willing to share that. Before I’m forced to act the part of a normal person and explain myself, Viola notices the little critter at my side and squeaks, sticking her head of dark locks out of the window. “And who is this lil ’fella, huh?” she asks in a soft childlike voice that has the puppy’s body swinging with joy.
I clear my throat. “Her name’s Lady.”
“Lady, of course, you are such a prettybebe!” Viola continues, reaching down to stroke the little dog. She almost falls out of the window to achieve this feat. “Where did she come from? Are you fostering again?”
I don’t want to tell her.
