Surviving His Touch

Chapter one: Dogsitting

The cool, brisk December air struck Kameron Davis like a shard of ice as she waited for the dogs to return indoors. She tapped her foot impatiently while her fingers skimmed across her phone. Then, she heard a loud yelp and quickly shifted her gaze from the screen in concern.

Oh fuck...SHIT!" She cried out as she saw the owner's dog lying in the street, covered in the crimson color she detested. She dashed into the middle of the road, oblivious to swerving cars that were trying to avoid hitting her, and was indifferent to the fact that the dog was critically injured. Without a sensible thought in her head, she rang up the first person who came to her mind.

The phone kept ringing until she heard the automated voice message, "I'm sorry, but the person you are trying to reach is currently unavailable." She hung up, and internally cursed as she began to panic, unsure of what to do next.

J - Hey, I'm kind of busy. What do you need?

Her thoughts started to race when she figured out why the call wasn't going through. She had accidentally dialed the number of the guy who had just broken up with her, not her mother's. Oh, screw me, she thought to herself as she prepared to respond to James' message.

K- Sorry, I was trying to call my mom. I'm still watching the dogs, but one of them just got hit by a car and the driver didn't even stop.

J- Oh shit... that sounds terrible. But I can't help you.

Upon receiving his last message, she was filled with anger towards him and herself. How could he act so heartlessly, especially when he was the one who caused her heartbreak? And how could she make such a foolish mistake as to call the wrong person? Standing in the street, still holding the dog wrapped in a blanket and too frightened to move it, she dialed her mother's number. The phone rang twice before she heard her half-asleep mother answer.

"Sweetheart, it's 3:30 in the morning. What do you need?" Her mother asked, yawning to shake off her sleepiness.

“Mom, Dia’s dog got hit by a car. The dickwad did a hit and run. What do I do? Dia’s going to kill me.” The girl raved angrily as her anxiety gnawed at her from within. She held back her sobs to prevent her tears from falling, so her mother wouldn't hear how upset she was.

“I’ll call Dia and let her know, she won’t be mad at you. Why weren’t you outside with the dogs?” Her mother asked, tone laced with curiosity.

“I was, I was standing on the front porch with my blanket wrapped around me bc I was cold.” She explained vehemently as the aforementioned tears started falling. “I looked down for literally two seconds and when I looked back up, she was in the road covered in blood.” She was fully sobbing at this point and felt like screaming at god. “This is all my fault, mom. I never should have looked away.” The poor girl could hardly speak without crying, totally scared that she was about to get a good talking-to.

“Kameron, listen to me, baby this isn’t your fault. You weren’t the one driving the car. Stay where you are and don’t let anyone hit you or that dog, I’m on my way.” The mother spoke and from the other end of the phone, Kameron heard the engine of her mom's car start. All Kameron could do now was softly sob "okay" to her mom.

About five minutes passed, and her mom pulled into the driveway, rushing out to help move the dog. Kameron ended the call and wiped away her tears, even though her hands were smeared with the furry animal's blood.

"Mom, she won't let me move her," she explained, trying to hold back tears that threatened to fall once more.

Kameron, let Tony and me handle this, okay?" Tony was a family friend who lived with them. He was illiterate, so her mom had been teaching him how to read and write so he could find a new job. His previous employer had fired him after 14 years, with the new management claiming they "didn't have the time to deal with a special needs person."

"Okay, but be careful. She's in a lot of pain." The girl distanced herself from the dog and the growing puddle of blood as her mother and Tony carefully approached the animal. The once beautiful Blue Heeler was now smeared with blood and struggling to breathe. They managed to move the dog off the road just as Dia called her mother back.

"Hey Dia, we just moved the dog off the road," Kameron's mother said, her southern accent becoming more noticeable now that she was awake.

"Hey Val, that's good. Try to get her on the back porch and tell Kameron that I'm not mad at her. These things happen," Dia responded as Kameron burst into tears again.

“You’re on speaker Dia, she heard you.” Her mother, Valeri, said as she looked up at Kameron still standing in the road.

Finding the courage to speak, Kameron’s voice was barely above a whisper. "Dia, we need to take Coco to the emergency vet. She's just been hit, but she could still pull through," Kameron hurriedly spoke, as if her panic was resurfacing. Despite appearing outwardly calm, she was in turmoil inside.

“Sweetie, your mom has already informed me. Given the amount of blood she's lost, she won't make it. We need to euthanize her, but emergency vets no longer provide that service," Dia explained, making Kameron feel even more upset. Kameron made the decision to stop talking and crouched down to pet the dog.

Oblivious to its impending end, the creature tried its best to lick her hand. Overwhelmed with emotion, Kameron began to cry and shake. Her comfort blanket, now draped around the furry creature, was stained with blood, rendering it unusable for her. The call between Dia and her mother ended, and she received a look that signaled "it's time". She gave the distressed animal a final gentle squeeze, careful not to inflict more pain, and stood up.

Kameron softly whispered to the ailing animal, "I'm so sorry Coco, but you won't be in pain much longer. I love you." Tears streamed down her despondent face as she rushed into the house. She couldn't bear to see or hear her mother put the dog down. She inserted her earbuds and cranked up the volume of her music. Believing she was shielded from the sound, she curled up on the couch in a fetal position.

Five minutes passed and, through the music in her headphones, she heard the sound of a gunshot echo in the air. Kameron clutched her knees tighter and tears continued to fall from her sorrowful eyes. Afraid to even speak when her mother opened the door, Kameron pretended she was heading to the bathroom. She was completely devastated over the fact that this young animal had been cruelly thrust into the afterlife.

Her phone chimed, alerting her that she had received a message from someone.

J - How are you doing? I can talk now if you need to.

K - Honestly, not great. My mom just had the dog put down.

J - I'm sorry I couldn't help you with everything, but it was kind of awkward talking to you.

K - It's fine. It's not like we're dating or on good terms right now. I'm going to bed. Good night.

J - Oh... good night.

Kameron switched off her phone and forcefully shoved it back into her pocket. She was thoroughly infuriated with him. Initially, he was cold and harsh, and now he was expressing concern for her. What an absolute load of s**t. Kameron left the bathroom to find that her mother had left after placing their deceased dog on the back porch for burial. Kameron opted to sleep on the couch that night, once she had buried the dog, as she felt responsible for its death.

After approximately two hours of digging, Kameron was close to finishing. It was merely a four-foot hole, but she lacked the strength to continue. She was both physically and emotionally depleted from the events that transpired earlier that night. She secured the dog more tightly in her blanket and gently laid it in its grave in the backyard. With a final "I'm sorry," she picked up the shovel and started to fill the hole with dirt.

Half an hour later, it was 6:20 in the morning. Kameron was covered in blood and dirt and completely worn out. She entered the master bathroom and started the shower. She turned the knob to the highest possible temperature and undressed. Discarding her blood-soaked clothing in the trash, she stepped into the shower and sighed. The steam fogged up the mirrors as Kameron allowed the forceful water to mask her tears yet again. She picked up her washcloth and soap and began to scrub. By the end of her shower, Kameron's skin was bright red and sensitive to the touch. Her short dyed hair was restored to its bright and vibrant colors, and she no longer felt unclean.

As Kameron stepped out of the shower, she turned off the water and started drying herself. She put on a clean hoodie and leggings, then headed for the couch. Once there, she plugged in her phone without bothering to check her 15 notifications. Not long after her head hit the pillow, as she flopped down onto the couch, Kameron fell asleep.