Unleashed

Stay

She lay curled up in the corner of her spacious bed. He'd been gone for hours; sometimes it rushed by, while at other times, it crept slowly. Her perception of time was never consistent. She stretched her limbs, inhaled deeply, and adjusted her position to lie on her side. From this angle, she caught a glimpse of the mid-morning sun filtering through the curtains. The rays made her squint.

She turned her head away from the blinding light, then shifted back to gaze at the outside world beyond the window. Her curiosity stirred thoughts of freedom, imagining what lay beyond the window's narrow slit. Lifting her head only as far as the crate allowed, she observed the room around her. It was a large crate with a cozy dog bed snugly fitted inside, as if the two pieces were made for each other. It was a comfortable bed, one that even he'd said he slept on when comforting her the first time she entered the crate.

Pressing her face against the crate bars, she noticed a squirrel outside, climbing a nearby tree with a nut in its tiny paws. The squirrel began munching on the nut, making her hungry too. She adjusted her position to gain a better view, watching the squirrel eat as if she could vicariously experience the meal through it.

The squirrel locked eyes with her, its tail flicking back and forth as it screeched. It felt like it was mocking her, taunting her about its freedom while she remained locked behind bars. She tried to reach for it, pushing against the crate again and again, but to no avail. She gave up and turned away from the light coming through the window.

The jingling of keys caught her attention. Although the walls in the complex were well-insulated, she struggled to distinguish between his keys and those of the neighbor across the way. She sat up, focusing intently on the closed bedroom door. Beyond that door was a hallway connecting the front of the apartment to the back. The kitchen, living room, and, most importantly, the front door were at the other end of that hallway. Despite the proximity of the master bedroom to the front half of the apartment, the hallway felt endless to her. While there was only one additional guest bedroom and bath between the master and the front half of the apartment, the hallway felt endless to her.

The moment the front door opened, she recognized that it was indeed him, not the neighbor. Alongside the sound of his approaching footsteps, she heard the joyful pitter-patter of eager feet.

"Who's a good girl?" He asked. There was a thump and then the sound of someone stumbling. Then he exclaimed, "Yes, yes, it is you. You are a good girl."

She flipped her body over and crawled to the other end of the crate, distancing herself from the bedroom door.

"You want to go see her? I do too." His voice grew nearer with each step. She pressed herself firmly against the back of the crate, but there was nowhere for her to escape, even if she wanted to. And she wanted to.

The door opened and she saw him. He was wearing a smile as bright as Christmas morning, with her being the gift he'd been hoping for. He was still wearing a light jacket and held the dog's leash as if he didn't want to waste any time putting it down after the walk before coming back to see her. A dog bounded through the door behind him.

"Riley," he called to the dog, "Give her some space. It looks like she just woke up."

The dog pawed at the crate as if to join her inside. It was almost amusing, despite how fucked up it felt. The dog sniffed around the edges of the crate, eventually reaching her arm and following it up to her face. The dog began licking her tears through the crate's bars. She leaned into the dog, feeling a closeness and compassion. She closed her eyes and wished she'd met the dog under different circumstances.

"See, I knew my girls would be friends." She opened her eyes and he was leaning over the crate, his dimples shining through the crate's bars as brightly as the light through the window. If she survived this, she vowed never to fall for an attractive man again.