It

8

It woke up to the sound of Oscar barking. She saw the large mastiff on the couch, looking directly at her. She got up, stretched and walked over to the big dog.

"Hello," she said, "Nice to see you again." The dog barked softly and put his head on the windowsill. It ran her small fingers up and down the dog's snout. (Fun Fact: If a dog lets you do that, that means they trust/like you!) She moved to behind the dog's ears and scratched there. Oscar barked happily was the girl found his tickle spot. He flopped on the couch and rolled on his back. It, not seeing the harm in it, jumped down and started to scratch his stomach. Oscar's leg started to twitch and scratch the air. "Good boy," It giggled. After a couple minutes of puppy love, It climbed back up to the windowsill. "Alright," she said, "I'm done." Oscar rolled on his stomach and stood up. He got off the couch and walked into another room. It giggled and looked out the window. The sun was already rising.

She loved this part of the day. The sunrise was so much prettier than the sunset. Everything was awakening to the sun's great power. It was truly a very cool thing to experience. She took a deep breath and enjoyed the sunrise. Luckily, the window was facing east. She saw the sun through all the trees. She didn't see Will walk up to her. 

He too liked to see the sunrise. Looking at It, he wrote something in his notebook: likes sunrise. He liked to look at her. Not in a weird creeper way, that would be awkward. No, he admired her. She was like a doll. A living, breathing doll. The only thing that made her different than a doll was that she could have emotions. So far, she had expressed fear (no shit), sadness, pain, offense, laughter, joy, and timidness. She was complex and confusing. She was amazing and kind. She was... perfect. That's the word. She was perfect. She reminded him of his mother. Though it had been a while, he could recall his mother quite well.

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Flashback
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"Will! Come down from there! You might hurt yourself!"

"Coming mother!" Will called down from the willow tree. As he hopped off the last branch, he made a low bow and said, "Thank you! Thank you! Oh, you're too kind!" He smiled as he pretended a large crowd was there, cheering him and giving him praise.

His mother smiled as shook her head. She held the two-year-old Brandon in her one arm and held Will's hand in the other. They walked down the path that led them to their house. 

"Now, Will," she said, "Do you want to hear a secret about that tree?"

"A secret?"

"Yes," she whispered as she sat down on the step and put Brandon down to play. "It was said that a weeping willow tree has special powers. They say that it can bring people together in a special way."

"How mother?" Will asked with his eyes wide open.

"Why, that tree brought your father and I together. We met because of that tree."

"What happened?"

"Well son, I was walking along in the woods, looking for something that I forget now, and I tripped on one of the roots. But I didn't fall on the ground, oh no, I was caught by the most handsome giant I've ever seen. He had silver hair and the most beautiful green eyes. He helped me up and that's how our love started."

"Wow," Will said.

"So remember that when you're ever feeling down, you can go to the tree and something extraordinary might happen."

Will smiled. He loved listening to his mother's stories. She was by far the best story-teller in the whole world.

"What was he like?" Will asked.