Page 505 of Once Upon a Fable

I saw the mania we shared.

And I came face-to-face with the deep-seated terror that we could never be loved because of what we were, what we’d become, what we’d done to survive.

It was the saddest thing to admit. To confess.

I doubted I would’ve ever been able to offer absolution for myself if I hadn’t found this creature. To see the pieces of me that so clearly needed forgiveness and understanding. The parts still cowering behind a bush, bound by a rope, waiting for some new devil to kill me.

But staring into the gleaming eyes of an animal trying to eat me, I found salvation.

I saw every broken piece that might never glue back into the right order, but they would glue intosomething. They would find their place, they would form into something valuable, and eventually, they’d be stronger than anything before.

Falling back on my ass, I gave in.

I let the dog keep biting me, all while my free hand went to the rope around his neck. His teeth chewed me harder as he felt my fingers in his fur. A yelp sounded as well as a growl, his fear overshadowing his fury.

“It’s okay.” I soothed. “Do what you need. I won’t judge you.”

My fingers fumbled in puss and blood, trying to free the dog.

My own blood dripped on the ground, mixing with his as he let go only to grab me again, puncturing me with new teeth marks.

I hissed but kept working the rope around his neck. I found a clasp, slippery with fluids and agony. The dog yelped again as I managed to open it, yanked on the rope that’d stuck to the wound, and threw it into the dark.

“You’re free.”

I wasn’t expecting anything in return. If the dog decided to bite me again, I would let it. I would permit him to drink a bit of my blood in order to gain enough substance to run into the forest and take his chances with Mother Nature.

However, the opposite happened.

The dog stopped biting me.

He stretched his neck, looking back to where I’d thrown the rope, the wound on his throat gaping and raw. He turned back to me. He licked his bloody lips. He whimpered and cocked his head as his eyes glossed with intelligence, gratefulness, and relief.

And then he bowed his head, tucked his tail, and slinked onto my lap.

He didn’t stop until he pushed me backward into the bush, forcing me to recline against the twigs and leaves. His paws landed on my chest. His tongue licked my face, my head, my hair. And then his skinny, abused body flopped down on my thighs with a heartbreaking blend of a woof, a whimper, and a whine.

And fuck me...I couldn’t do it.

My heart shattered.

My tears flowed.

And I grabbed the dog, who’d just shown me so much fucking trust, in a bear hug.

I wrapped him tight, stench and all.

I buried my face into his rancid fur.

And I motherfucking sobbed.

I sobbed for my stolen childhood.

I sobbed for my broken adulthood.

I sobbed for every person I’d loved and lost.

And in that midnight forest, cradling a creature who was me in canine form, I felt a cleansing.