Auctioned

Allison

I can practically hear the clock tick ing as I go about my daily routine. Tick. Tick. Tick. It's a quarter past five and I'm running behind schedule. I'm usually on time, but I had difficult time sleep ing last night, tossing and turning for most of the night. I frown at the memory as I pull on my faded wash jeans over my hips, and tug down my cozy red sweater.

I haven't had a night that bad in a while. I cover my mouth with a yawn and try to ig nore the unsettling feelings as I make my way to the bathroom sink. But I'm hoping it's just a fluke. It is just a fluke. I won't let things get back to the way they were.

Pushing the unpleasant memory away, I swipe on my favorite lipstick in a shade remi niscent of crushed rose petals, and smoosh my lips together. Then I peer critically at my self in the mirror. The quick ponytail I coax my hair into is going a long way to hide my di sheveled blonde hair, but when you're the owner of tails, a doggy day care and shelter, your hair doesn't need to be pretty. You just need to show up and be there.

I've found dogs only care about two things. Well, three. Food, exploration and companionship. I love it actually. Working and caring for these dogs fills me with purpose and gives my life meaning. It's the one thing I look for ward to every day. Just thinking about the excitement on their fuzzy little faces when I walk in to greet them warms my chest and brings a small smile to my lips as I reach for the small tube of thick concealer.

Another part of my routine.

My smile slowly vanishes as I run my fin gertips along the scars littering my neck. No matter how much time passes, they barely seem to fade. It's been four long years, but they're still there, reminding me of a darker time in my life. As I stare at my neck in the mirror, a weight presses down on my chest, but after a moment I push it away in defiance.

I survived all that, I think to myself, dotting the concealer on my neck and right shoulder and then reaching for my foundation. And I'm stronger now. He didn't ruin me. I won't let him hold any power over me anymore.

Straightening my back, I swallow thickly and square my shoulders as I delicately press the foundation onto my skin and smooth the concealer on the scars on my neck until they're all gone. After I'm done with my face, I toss the foundation into the decorative velvet lined box where I keep my makeup, the mem ories already fading. Coffee is the next thing on my agenda.

Tick, tick, tick. The small ticks echo in my head, reminding me how far I'm behind al ready. I grit my teeth. Crap.

I almost call out, "I'm coming, roro!" as I make my way to the kitchen, but then I catch myself, a feeling of sadness coursing through me. I take a deep breath and rub under my tired eyes. It's a habit I have yet to break. I'm so used to Roro being there every time I turn around that I still haven't gotten over the fact that she's gone.

Tears prick my eyes as my bare feet pad on the linoleum and I start the coffee maker. Two clicks, and it's brewing. I should grab some thing to eat, but instead I find myself lost in thought as the sounds of the water heating fill the empty space. The quiet space. Quiet be cause she's not here anymore.

Roro, my Labrador, was such a lovable dog. She was always there for me when ever I needed her. She was so happy. I swear dogs can smile, and she was always smiling. We were practically inseparable. And she didn't give a rat's ass that I had scars all over my back or that I was scared of things I couldn't see, of dark memories that I desper ately wanted to leave in the past.

She just loved me unconditionally and only wanted to comfort me. I clung to that love, fostering it. She was my therapy, and I came to depend on her for so much. I can't count how many times I woke up out of a night terror, frightened out of my mind, only to find Roxy sitting right there, nuzzling against me and whining with true pain from worrying over me. Her calming presence would almost always soothe my anxiety. It's times like last night, when I'd been plagued by a particularly dark terror, where I miss her the most.