Little Lonely Hibiscus *HIATUS*

He Remembers

I swore my face could not have gotten any redder than it was now. With the dark, grey clouds swarming the small dull sun behind Cybil and her subtle brown hair falling in her shoulders with every step she took, I almost spoke to her without thinking. I gripped the basket handle nervously, and continued walking down the broken pavement with her.
"We should take a break at half-point," Cybil said. I nodded in agreement, mainly because the barn was so far away. Half-point was what we called the empty lot behind an old mart. We had added some boxes and pillows and blankets and other accessories to the point where it almost seemed liveable. I brushed my bangs to the side and straightened my cap.

We passed a couple of abandoned trucks parked nearly outside the old stained mart. Cybil and I exchanged looks and I handed the basket over to her. The last time we saw those trucks was also the last time I saw my puppy golden retriever, Toka. I approached the trucks with caution while clutching the switchblade. I peered into the dusty tinted windows of the red truck and waved the nauseating aroma away. Cigars, a gun, bullets and a magazine laid on the tattered grey seats. I walked around and observed the other trucks, all of them seeming to have the same items in them. I lifted my head over to where Cybil was, but I didn't see her.
"Cybil?" I asked. No response. I rushed out from behind the trucks and started to panic. It was almost as if my whole world was swarming in darkness, the corners of my vision starting to fade. The moment I heard plastic wrinkling, that's when it hit me.

Five Years Ago.

I remember struggling.
"Toka! Give her back!!"
"If you want her so bad, then get up!!"

I remember her crying.
"STOP IT!! YOU'RE HURTING HER!"

Jackson had picked her up and started throwing her on the cement. He laughed like a fucking maniac, and started mimicking me. Trevor was the one pinning my arms behind my back and pressing my face into the sharp rocks. My face started bleeding and my lungs felt weak against the weight. Toka was a gift my father had given me for my eighth birthday. Just a month before I met Jackson.

"TOKA!! NOOOOO!! LEAVE HER ALONE, BASTARD!"
His face turned to me, his eyes showing me something I've never seen before. He was crazy. Psychotic. Evil. Then he picking up my whimpering Toka, and raised his arm high.
I remember blood.
I remember him smiling.
I remember Toka.
Dead.
I remember holding her in my arms, feeling her breathless face and crying. She was only four weeks old. Her brown eyes always lit up my day, and her chirpy barks sounded like squeaks. She would always roll in the floor whenever I would spin around in a circle.
Now, her golden fur was matted with maroon colored blood.
She had always cuddled into my lap whenever I felt sad.
But this time, I was the one cuddling her because I was sad.

Present.

How could I had been so stupid? The only reason why Jackson got hold of Toka in the first place was because I wasn't paying attention.
I swear to God if he lays a finger on Cybil, I would turn him into a meat slushy. And I knew exactly where he was.