Lindsey Skye
Published by Lindsey Skye at Smashwords
Copyright 2011 Lindsey Skye
I shiver uncontrollably beneath your fingers, but I refuse to move. The rain is beating down on us from all directions; even the elements have turned against us. But I refuse to move.
‘Go!’ You order, but I ignore you. I simply lay by your side, resting my head on your chest. You are bleeding too much, and you are too heavy for me to drag you back to safety. Bullets accompany the rain in fierce silvery drops plummeting to the ground. They miss us, but barely. I can’t tell which side is firing, and I don’t care, as long as I protect you.
You run a hand through my soft, thick black fur, stroking me behind my ears where there is a particularly itchy spot. You start talking about the first moment we met, all those years ago in 1909. I remember it more clearly than you, the way you found me, a lost lonely puppy, scrambling through the rubble of a burnt down barn in France.
There is a blinding pain in my side and I whimper and cry, shuffling closer to you. I look to my side to see thick blood clotting my fur, leaking from a new bullet wound. I don’t tell you. You ask me what’s wrong, but I just lay in your arms. I can feel my body starting to give up. You start to shiver underneath me, and I adjust my stance so more of my thick fur covers your body to keep you warm.
Slowly, your voice starts to falter, getting quieter, the pauses between each sentence getting longer. You close your eyes, the metal mud-covered helmet on your head shielding them from the rain. I whimper and nudge your face with my nose.
‘Don’t worry girl.’ You somehow manage to say through the pain. ‘I’m just taking a nap.’ I know you are lying, but you seem so happy and peaceful. I make sure I’m keeping you warm as you close your eyes again. I hear your heart in your chest beginning to slow. Finally, it stops, and I cry loudly, howling up at the sky. The bullets have stopped, and I can hear people running towards us. But they are too late to help.
I growl and snarl at every soldier who steps closer to you. They say they’re there to help, but I don’t let them pass. I can feel my own heart beginning to slow as I succumb to my bullet wound.
I’ll be with you in just a few minutes. We can run through the fields like we always used to, streaming through the poppies that were always near our home. I can chase the rabbits through the fields, never catching them but enjoying the run. We can go on our long walks along the coast on sunny days. Maybe it will always be sunny where we’re going.
I can’t feel the cold anymore. My energy leaves me, but still I refuse to move. I stay with you until the very end.
And suddenly I’m looking down on the scene. Someone is lifting me from your body, while a small group of men carry you away on a stretcher. They leave my body on the battlefield, they don’t have enough time to take me.
But I don’t care.
I’m with you now.