Waffles and Betrayals - ENG

Chapter 12

Warning! This chapter talks about animal abuse, abandonment, emotional distress, trauma, abusive relationships, grief, problems with food and weight, embarrassment and sexual themes. If it bothers you, don't continue reading.

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In a small village on the coast of the North Sea, a White Terrier was chasing a tennis ball, trotting quickly with its tongue hanging out. Every now and then, it would stop to sniff the air, sensing the electricity of the approaching storm. Its ears perked up, rotating like little radar dishes, as it picked up the vibrations of distant thunder. After confirming that the danger was not yet imminent, it returned to its game as if nothing had happened, grabbing the ball with its teeth and then dropping it at its little owner's feet.

The young girl watched the dog while he stared back at her, wagging his tail frantically, waiting for her to throw the ball. Sometimes she threw it far, other times she pretended to, watching him sprint like crazy, only to stop with a confused look. The dog barked at her in response, as if to ask what had happened.

Those little interactions sometimes caused the corner of her mouth to lift, if only slightly. And when she realized she was smiling, she suppressed the emotion, frowning immediately afterward. She couldn't let herself get attached to that dog.

"It's useless to look at me like that. You're not Lucky. You never will be."

She threw the ball toward the farthest corner of the garden, then buried her head in her knees, ignoring the pain caused by her belly rolls pressing against her legs. She felt a desperate need to cry, or better yet, to scream, but she gritted her teeth. She couldn't risk being seen in that state. She couldn't let her see her like that.

The little dog brought the ball back to her, dropping it at her feet. She felt it bounce against her yellow rubber boots. The dog barked, then rubbed its wet nose against the girl's knuckles.

"Leave me alone!" she raised her voice at the dog, immediately feeling guilty as she saw it get scared and take a few steps back, eyes filled with confusion.

That poor animal hadn't done anything to her. Its only fault was ending up in that house to fill a void it could never fill. It had been a gift from her parents, a pathetic peace offering to stop her from crying.

The girl thought of Lucky, standing under that bridge, looking at her with pleading eyes.

"We're doing this for his own good," her mother had said, while her father tied a rope to the dog's collar, securing the other end to the guardrail.

The girl screamed and kicked from the back seat of the car. "No, please! He has to come with us!" She pounded her fists against the window as her eyes filled with tears, blurring her vision. Yet, she saw the dog's frightened gaze clearly, and she would never forget it. It was the look of someone betrayed by their family, the same look she had had so many times.

"Someone will find him and give him a home. You'll see, he'll be fine." When her mother spoke, it was terrifying. She maintained a calculated coldness, often making her next moves entirely unpredictable. There was never a trace of remorse in her eyes. Her father, on the other hand, was like a marble statue, expressionless. That day, he hadn't said a word throughout the entire trip.

The car journey to Scotland would be so long that they would need to make several stops, sleeping here and there at the first hotel they found at the end of the day. There was no room for Lucky, and it wasn't fair to subject the dog to all that stress; at least, that's what they had told her. It was better to leave him there, trembling with fear, wondering when they would come back. After all, he was under the bridge and wouldn't even get wet in case it rained.