My dream

I watch daisy run around the dog park with a ball in her mouth, she brings this back to me and places it on my feet proudly. "Who's a good girl?" I ask rubbing her belly.

She stands in front of me looking pleased and proud of herself.

I look at my phone and see that it is time for me to get daisy back to her owner, I attach her leash to her collar and lead her out of the park.

I have come to love daisy as my own, I would sit with her for hours and just watch the distance, sometimes we would get so lost in our own little world that I would forget the time but today is different, I need to get the fuck out of here.

I look over my shoulders again trying to appear inconspicuous and some twenty feet away is a man wearing a baseball cap. 'Oh lord's say internally.

I first noticed him when I left my house this morning to go pick up Daisy but it wasn't anything unusual to see a man by the side of the road .

Then I had noticed him again on my way to the vets where daisy was due for a shot. I really didn't start to panic until I saw him at the park. Call me paranoid or anything but I don't believe in such coincidences.

Lucky for me I see Mr Morris Daisy's owner driving in.

He pulls over and asks to give me a ride which I happily accept, usually I would have declined but not today.

I sit besides daisy at the back as mr Morris starts the car.

I look back at the road and notice the man has vanished, I turn back and sigh out in relief.

"Is everything okay?" Mr Morris inquires

"Yeah" I say forcing a smile.

He stops the car in front of my house and I alight thanking him and waving goodbye to a sad daisy.

As I turn around to face my home, I come face to face with Zachary sitting on my front steps, how come I hadn't noticed his extra flashy ride sitting in my yard.

I walk past him to get the key from the broken plant pot and proceed to open the door.

"You knew where the key was, why didn't you get it?" I ask dropping the key and my purse on the coffee table.

"I didn't think you'd like that?" He replies

"When did you become so thoughtful" I ask sarcastically

He laughs at this exposing his perfect set of teeth.

I sit opposite him unwilling to part from him for even a second, the weekend has been unbearable without him.

"I missed you" he says now sitting up on his chair

"We were together yesterday and the day before that" I respond secretly delighted by his confession.

He smiles wearily at me shaking his head.

"I always want to be with you" he says unabashed.

I lower my eyes to the ground my nonchalance shattering at his declarations.

I know what I feel for him but letting my feelings show has never been my strong fort.

"You know I miss when you used to be a chatter box, when you said everything you thought without filters" .

I keep staring at the floor.

"There isn't much to chatter about these days" i reply

He sighs

"Tell me about your dreams" he says, I look up perplexed.

"You always had the most colourful dreams, bizarre but colourful " he rubs his smooth chin with the back of his hand chuckling.

I let a small smile play on my lips.

"Remember how excited you used to be to talk about them, you used to describe them so good too. Do you still write?"

I sigh finally moving from my chair to the kitchen.

I grab a bottle of water and open its cap,

"I would prefer if we kept the past locked up, i don't remember much of it anyway"

He had followed me into the kitchen, his muscular arms holding onto the sides of the table.

Me not remembering much of the past is actually true.

The doctors said it was my way of dealing with the trauma, dissociative amnesia they called it.

I prefer it that way, the past wouldn't do me any good.

He tilts his head to the side considering my words then as if deciding that there was no reason not to believe me, smiled.

"Come on, lets go somewhere" he says turning towards the door

'Okay, I'll go anywhere with you' was the first reply i thought of, but after a full minute of just staring at him until he repeats his offer, i say

"No".

He sighs out, maybe in frustration and walks back to the kitchen where i am still rooted on a spot.

"Then what do you love doing?"

"Huh?" I ask

He smiles again gently, understanding.

"What do you love?I want to get to know you. The things you love, the things you hate and the things that make you smile"

I hate it when people look at me this way, like they understand why i act the way i do, and they pity me.

But i don't hate it now, standing in this dimly lit kitchen, in this old building, looking at the face i hated the most and love at the same time. I just feel sad.

For the first time in a long time, i know what i feel.

"I keep seeing a wolf"

I sit on one of the four stools arranged around the kitchen table.

Sometimes i like to imagine that there was a time when i sat on one of these very stools facing my stepfather as we both wait for my mom all smiles and jokes as she makes her signature pancakes behind me on the stove.