Lydia- The Pet Communicator (Wattys13- Finalist!)

Chapter 8

Lydia- The Pet Communicator

Chapter 8

Over the next two weeks, we saw no trace of my mother. There were no calls or anything, which meant she didn’t even care about how I was doing. Though my father never mentioned her in front of me, I knew he was still broken on the inside.

My father rejoined his old business after about a week had passed, and he appointed a nurse to watch over me while he was away. Her first name was Britney, and with her young, beautiful face, she even looked like Britney Spears. She easily could have been a model, which made me wonder how she’d ended up as a nurse.

Britney also played the role of a physiotherapist, helping me exercise and taking care of my daily nutrition. My health was improving each and every day, and I was eventually able to walk with crutches, though my body still throbbed with pain. Dr. Thomas came to check up on me often; he only talked about my improvement and called me his strongest patient.

“Um, Ms. Patterson, have you seen my cell phone?” I asked one day, looking around my room. I remembered that I’d placed it under my pillow, but when I checked, it wasn’t there.

“Yes, it’s in here,” she replied, entering my closet. “I found it under your pillow, so I put it in the closet instead. It’s really dangerous to have cell phones near you—they give off so many negative rays.”

“Thank you. Can you please tell me the date?” I asked.

“It’s the twenty-third of June, dear. Tuesday”

“Oh, crap! It’s twenty-third? I’m going out with Ricky this afternoon—there’s a circus show!” I exclaimed.

“You can go anywhere you want now. Just don’t stress yourself, and make sure to come home early. Don’t stay out too long, either. You’ve been inside for a while, and the air could make you sick,” the nurse told me.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Can you help me getting dressed?”

“Sure, love. What do you want to wear?”

“I’d like a pair of skinny jeans, the light-wash ones, and that pink Playboy top. It looks good on me, and it’s really comfortable too.”

The nurse nodded and retrieved what I’d asked for. After helping me get ready, she said, “Want some makeup? I enjoy applying it, and I haven’t been able to do anyone’s makeup for a long time. I can do your hair, too.”

“I don’t want to look like a Lady Gaga,” I replied.

She rolled her eyes and pushed me down on the bed. “I won’t put on a lot of makeup. Ricky will adore you, just wait and see, silly.”

It took her a few minutes to fix me up. She used shades of pink for the makeup, and when she was also finished with my hair, she let me take a look. Even though the makeup was very simple, it changed my entire look; the hairstyle, a low, messy bun with French braids on either side, looked great as well.

“Thank you, Britney! You’re an amazing stylist.”

After a little while, there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” I called.

Ricky walked in, looking particularly delicious in a red T-shirt, brown leather jacket, and dark-wash jeans. “Stop staring at me like that, honeybee. You know I’m all yours,” he said with a wink.

“Yeah, I know.” I rolled my eyes at him and chuckled.

Ricky came closer and pulled me into a passionate kiss. Things were going wild until Britney cleared her throat from behind. We broke our kiss, and I blushed.

“Let’s get you outside, shall we?” Britney asked, shifting her gaze to Ricky.

He nodded.

“I can do it myself,” I said. “I have my crutches, and Ricky can help me down the stairs. No worries. You just take a break.”

Britney gave a loud sigh and warned, “Fine, but remember what I told you. Ricky, take care of her—she’s still unstable physically, and she can’t be out of the house for too long. Especially, no loving making, you two.”

We both nodded in agreement and waved her goodbye.

Britney was a really good human being, and she was still single, waiting for her Mr. Perfect. I’d always thought that my father would be perfect match for her, but he’d kill me for thinking like that. After all, he still loved my mother.

When Ricky and I arrived at the circus, we spotted the ringmaster presenting the performers to the audience. The next act would be the animal act, featuring different types of animals who performed tricks.

“We came at the right time, huh? You’re gonna love this,” Ricky said as we took our seat.

The truth was-- I hated these kinds of acts. Circuses tended to mistreat animals and deprive them of their basic needs, which included exercise, interaction, space, and playtime. In addition, their training methods sometimes involved varying degrees of punishments. The animals in these shows performed not because they wanted to, but because they were afraid of what would happen if they didn’t. After their torture, they’d cry out in pain and be locked in big, cramped cages where they’d eat, sleep, and urinate, all in one place. No one cared about their feelings.

In the middle of the ring, there sat a dejected lion in the cage. He had firm metal chains tied around his legs and a heavy metal loop placed around his neck. Shortly the trainer entered the cage, and the crowd started cheering with joy.

“You suckers!” I yelled at them. Ricky was stunned at my remark.

The lion roared out loud, and I heard him say, “The loop is really heavy around my neck! I can’t do this—I haven’t been eating the right food, and my legs have been beaten with metal rods.” The tamer gave him a lash on the back, and the lion roared, “It hurts! Please stop! Let me go!”

I saw the tamer bring out a metal rod, and I asked Ricky to stop him immediately, since I couldn’t take quick action because of my disability.

“Are you crazy? Just enjoy the show! The lion’s just being lazy,” said Ricky.

“He’s suffering! He can’t even move, and he’s going to get beaten with that huge metal rod! Please stop the lion tamer!”

“No way!” Ricky squealed. “The crowd would just laugh at me—they’d think I’m insane!”

“I’m laughing at you right now! You’re just a heartless, cowardly freak!”

“Oh, I’m the freak? What about you? You’re mentally ill! You rant all the time about animals talking to you and stuff, and I just... Look, Lydia, I think we need a break from each other. I want the old Lydia back.”

“‘Old Lydia’? I’m exactly the same as I was before, maybe even better. I think you’re the one who’s changed, Ricky.” I sighed. “Take me home. I can’t watch this animal being tortured anymore. Thanks for not having faith in me Ricky.”

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Wasn't this chapter touchy? I hope you learnt somethings out of it. I am just trying to potray the feelings of animals in this story. Support me, and help me spread my words. Don't forget to watch a video I uploaded on the side. Its really beautiful.

So, Lydia and Ricky broke up? Find out more. Thank you for everything too ;)