3: 3
3
I sat there dazed the whole night, and every second dragged.
The moment the alarm went off, I couldn't wait. I knocked on Donald's door.
"It's morning. Let's go get Buddy back, okay?"
The room was silent. No one answered.
My heart dropped. I felt my way to the bed. The sheets were faintly cold.
He'd left long ago.
I couldn't wait another minute.
I'd already lost my mother, and Donald was gone too.
Buddy was all I had left.
Five years later, I set foot in that painful place again.
A party was going on inside the old estate, a whole crowd of them making noise.
I had barely stepped in when a clammy hand landed on my shoulder.
"Who ordered this girl? Kinky taste, ordering a blind one."
"Shh, you want to die? That's the one Don keeps on the side—"
Their voices dropped low. The man who'd spoken first started bowing and scraping toward the front.
"Don, I'm sorry, my mouth runs off, I deserve it."
Donald's lazy voice drifted over.
"Yours, mine, what's the difference. We're all brothers here."
I stood frozen where I was.
There was a time when a stranger on the street muttering "blind girl" in passing was enough to break something in Donald, to make him furious.
Even beaten bloody, he'd shield me with his whole body, his eyes burning and solemn.
"Remember, in my heart, Freya is the best girl in the world."
"No one has the right to put you down. No one."
And now he was putting me down right along with them.
The pain spread through my chest in tiny needling points.
I turned toward where Donald was and fought back the tears with everything I had.
"Where's Buddy? You promised you'd give Buddy back to me today."
Sharon walked up to me carrying a bottle of liquor.
"Sis drinks this glass, and I'll tell you. How about that?"
I'm allergic to alcohol. As a child, not knowing better, I once sneaked a liqueur-filled chocolate and broke out in a rash all over.
Donald had gone white with fright. He'd held me and said he would never let me touch a drop of alcohol again.
"Tell me, where exactly is Buddy?"
Donald's cold, clear voice came in.
"Freya, Sharon's talking to you."
Sharon shoved the heavy bottle into my hands.
My unfocused eyes turned toward where Donald stood.
"Is this what you want too?"
"Mm. What Sharon wants is what I want."
Terrified something would happen to Buddy, I clutched the bottle and gulped it down, mouthful after mouthful.
The burning liquid poured down my throat and set me coughing.
My mind was going hazy, but I forced myself through to the last swallow.
"Can you tell me now?"
Sharon gave a cold little snort.
"No fun at all. The old dog's out back of the house."
At some point it had started pouring outside.
I didn't know the ground, and my steps came uneven, too high then too low.
I tripped again and again, falling hard into the mud.
Skinned knees, scraped palms, my forearms lined with cuts.
Mud and blood mixed together and dripped off my limbs without stopping.
But I didn't dare stop. I pushed myself up and kept feeling my way forward.
My Buddy was still waiting for me.
Finally, through the wind and rain, I heard Buddy's low whimper.
I followed the sound and found him tied to a wire fence post.
The rope was only half a meter long. Buddy couldn't crouch and couldn't stand straight, only hunch there, and there was no telling how long he'd been like that.
He was trembling in the rain, and the smell of his own vomit hung in the air.
I couldn't work the dead knot in the wire loose.
I tore at it with bare hands, the wire cutting into my palms, blood mixing with rain.
Buddy was very weak, barely able to stand, yet he still remembered his job.
He lowered his head and nudged my palm gently, then set off with unsteady steps, still doing his duty, still leading the way for me.
Just as we were about to reach the doorway, Sharon blocked our path.
Buddy shook and pressed himself against my leg.
"Freya, you lost again."
Against her, it seemed I had never once won.
She could always take what was mine so easily.
Before it was Dad's love, and now it was Donald's affection.
I tightened my grip on the harness lead.
Staring into the empty dark, I felt everything inside me go barren.
There was no one here worth holding on to anymore.
Once Buddy recovered, I would take him and leave this place.
