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A short story
The doors were going up in flames. It was blazing hot. The smell of smoke chased me as I stumbled to the bathroom. I didn’t know what I was thinking. I couldn’t see anything. The stench of burning plastic filled my nose. I curled up by the bathtub, ready to sleep for the last time.
I hoped my dreams would be sweet ones. I hoped that I would see my humans in the next life in the same park we frequented, playing the same game of catch we always did. I hoped that they wouldn’t be too sad while they waited for our next meeting.
And then there was shouting outside.
I didn’t know who it was at first. I could barely keep my eyes open. I tried to stand up, but I slipped instead. Then a panicked voice called out my name. A pair of knees collided with the ground, hands groping the floor. I braced myself. I needed all the strength I had left. I stood up and ran into his arms.
The next time I opened my eyes, I could see the noon sun shining above me. The blare of fire truck sirens was deafening. My dad was above me, kissing the charred fur on my head. His tears were falling all over me, but it was okay. I wished I could thank him for coming. I wished I could tell him how much I loved him. I’m sorry I couldn’t get out by myself. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop the fire from devouring everything we owned, from my favorite bouncy ball to your most treasured belongings. I wished it so badly.
I just fell into his embrace.
