Arcana

Another Failure

"Wait, please come back!"

I hurried down the deserted hill that is about half a mile away from home.

No way, it's getting farther away.

I winced in pain as I unknowingly stepped on a sharp tiny piece of wood, regretting my decision about not stopping for a while to grab my old pair of worn-out boots.

I gasped, trying to breathe as steadily as I could. The sun is about to set. The sky painted a shade of orange, filling the surroundings with glints of warm light.

I stopped running.

Watching the orb of white light slowly diminish, with exasperation, I slowly managed to sit down. I planted my hands on the ground helplessly.

The soft breeze blowing my hair, including the fabric of my once-neat velvet dress, embraced my whole being.

"No matter how hard I try, why can't I still reach you?"

I hastily wiped away the tears that brimmed my eyes. The sky turned dim as my chances did.

No matter how much I try to be optimistic, it would never hide away the fact that I'm nearing my own death.

I squeezed the rough patch of grass that sat innocently near me.

It's been my sixteenth birthday. Only a year left. I've got only one last chance to change everything.

Only one final chance to live.

"Reina." A friendly voice called my attention from behind, followed by a series of soft thumps and a couple of snaps from stepping small tree branches.

"I'm sorry, Rocky," I said, almost a whisper, "I'm sorry I failed this year."

Hearing what I said, his furry body immediately weakened, as if he has never heard that before. He rushed towards my side and rested his head on my lap.

"Then, we'll finally get it next year. No doubt." He said lightly, staring assuringly at me with his amber eyes, trying to hide a hint of despair in his voice. I ruffled his ash-grey fur.

Ironically, having a wolf that can speak directly at me and eat my breakfast occasionally is the only thing that keeps me sane.

"It was so close this time, Rocky. So close," I cried. "Maybe I'm destined to be just so close. Just so close."

Rocky growled.

"Not that thing again, Reina," he shot up and faced me. "Don't you ever say that. We still have another year to go-"

"But what if I failed again?" I cut him off mid-sentence.

"Reina. Envisioning failure yourself has already made you fail. Why don't you just kick your pessimistic booty up and look forward, eh?"

He casually scratched his ear, licked his paws and no. No. That's disgusting.

I managed to stand up and felt the piece of wood that got stuck on my foot. I reached down and removed the wood - using my index finger and thumb - carefully, trying not to show the pain.

A little blood oozed out of my barefoot as I successfully pulled the sharp object.

Wiping my hand with the velvety fabric of my dress, I turned to face Rocky, who's currently busy with, you know, dog stuff.

Or should I say, 'wolf stuff'?

"Maybe we should get going," I sighed. "And go back home. I'm tired."

The furry creature, looking pretty determined by now, nodded as he ran towards a young bush and back at me.

For a seven-year-old wolf, he's a bit short for his age. Almost like a Corgy dog.