(Continued from Part 2)
I closed my eyes and flopped on my bed that night. I sighed and got back up and got ready for bed. As I looked in the mirror while I was brushing my teeth I spotted a scrape under my left eye that hadn’t been there this morning. I touched it and felt a tiny sting. I touched it again just to make sure because scars carry stories. Usually if I touch a scrape or scratch I can remember where I got it from the pain. But, this scrape carried no memory with it. I finished brushing my teeth and went back to my bed. I turned the light out and heard bonking at my door. I got up and opened the door to see my dog Nala. Her long hound ears drooped to the floor. She was still a baby. Only about six months old and a bouncing tiny ball of energy. I picked her up and put her on the bed so she wouldn't throw out her back because her basset hound back was very fragile. Also she told me to do it; she’s a pampered pup. Yes I did just say she told me too. I can hear her thoughts too remarkably. I can’t hear all animals' thoughts, only the animals I am connected to in an emotional way. It was a little surprising and weird at first but I got used to it. She’s sweet and kind of has a voice like Minnie Mouse. She likes to ask to rub her belly or get mom to play with us. She hasn’t met dad yet because he has been gone for so long and she is new to our family. My mom was feeling especially nice one day and came home with baby Nala in her arms. And Nala has been my best friend ever since. So I cuddled her in my arms and drifted off to sleep.
The next morning I woke up to a squirmy puppy in my bed licking my face to wake me up.
“Ugh. Nala, you have morning breath.” I rubbed my eyes to find that under the left one was wet. Nala had been licking my scratch. My mysterious, weird, scratch. I picked her up and got out of bed. I picked up a dark lavender ribbon up off my dresser and tied it into a bow on her collar. I did this because dark lavender is my favorite color and Nala just looks so cute with little bows on her collar. I took a shower, got dressed, and put my hair up into two space buns.
I went upstairs and out the door to get the mail from outside. There was only one thing in the mailbox. I walked back inside and sat down at the kitchen island. I looked at the return address and the name I saw was Noland Shultz; my father.