Seven years ago

The smell was absolutely heavenly. Sweet but also rich and deep, layered in with a hundred little details so every sniff you discovered something new and wonderful. Even better, it was being carried on a rush of hot air, which on a rainy winter’s day like this meant that every time I breathed it in, it warmed me up from the inside. But the best part was the smell of success.

Grammy’s famous brownies had been my favourite thing in the world since before I even had teeth. She’d never given out the recipe to anyone, not even her own son (and Dad told me he’d begged her for it), but every time I saw her there’d be a platter full of them, fresh and hot right out of the oven. She said that was why she wouldn’t share the recipe - it made sure her favourite granddaughter kept visiting. So everyone was so surprised when she said she’d teach me how to make them as a special 13th birthday present.

It had taken a few tries to get them right, even after she showed me. The failures still tasted really good, but they weren’t Grammy’s brownies, they were just brownies. But this time? This time I could tell without even tasting them that they were perfect. The moment I’d opened the oven door, the whole kitchen started smelling like my childhood. Iz was going to love them.

Iz - Isobelle, but I called her Iz - was my best friend, and the coolest person in the whole world. She was so smart, and athletic, and she listened to the coolest music that I’d never heard of until I met her, and instead of being all stuck-up about it all she was so down to earth and nice to everybody. Really pretty, too, I saw boys practically drooling on her all the time and flirting in super obvious ways, though she was way too smart to ever fall for it.

I’d told her during history on Tuesday that I had nothing to do this weekend, and I was just complaining to get it off my chest, but she told me that there was this celebration of winter flowers going on at the botanical gardens that she wanted to go to on Sunday, but it wouldn’t be as much fun if she was alone so she was already going to ask me if I wanted to go there. She was really into flowers and gardening type stuff, so we’d gone to a few of these kinds of things before, and I didn’t love it all the way she did, but she’d always talk to me about every kind of flower we saw and why it was special and say all these facts about it, and with how passionate she got you couldn’t not get passionate and interested too, so obviously I said yes.

That was why I’d been trying so hard all week to get the brownies right. I’d made like, twenty batches, enough that Mum and Dad had started giving them out to all their friends and people at work because they couldn’t stand to eat any more. They didn’t get why I was trying so hard when Iz had never had Grammy’s brownies and wouldn’t know the difference even if I didn’t get them perfect, but that was the whole point. Iz wasn’t into food like I was, but she was showing me this big part of her life and why it meant so much to her. I wanted to do the same thing for her. After all that work I kinda panicked when I woke up this morning and saw it was raining, since the exhibition was outside and I thought we’d have to cancel, but when I called her she said that it was a good thing. She told me that the flowers look more alive when it’s raining, which is so deep.

Okay, it was time. The brownies had been sitting long enough. I picked up my knife and ruler, carefully scoring out the lines to slice perfectly even rectangles, each one big enough for three little bites or two big ones - the perfect size for a brownie. As I began to carve them, I tasted a little bit of the crumb that stuck to the knife, and oh my god. If I hadn’t known it was perfect before, I knew it then.

This whole day was going to be perfect.

Today

Even with my eyes screwed shut, I could still feel the thing looming over me. Its breath was hot, hotter than it should have been, and stank of old fish and compost. As I struggled helplessly to get away from it, I felt something - drops of water on my face and my arms. No, not water. Drool, from those disgusting tongues. Then my skin started burning wherever the drool had touched it. Burning, then freezing, then burning again. The pain was too much, I stopped fighting. I stopped even thinking. I just wanted it to stop, and I didn’t care how.

Then, light.

It was only a momentary flash, but even with my eyes closed, it was bright enough to hurt. Patterns were seared across the insides of my eyelids. But the pressure lifted off my chest as the thing recoiled, and I could breathe again. I rolled onto my side, choking on the sudden rush of air, and looked for the source of the light.

There was another figure, that looked to be actually human, standing not too far away. My vision was still full of spots so I couldn’t make out details other than them being tall and broad, but the new person was surrounded by a gentler light, white tinged with just a hint of pink, which was enough to illuminate the clearing.

“Walk away from her. Now.”

The voice was masculine, seemed familiar, but I was too rattled to place it exactly. There was a moment of silence, then he spoke again.

“You went for someone who couldn’t fight back, so you’re smart. Use that brain. You don’t want to fight me, and you know I won’t back down, so run.”

Silence again. Then I sensed the thing start to move, slowly at first, then faster. The crunch crunch crunch of leaves faded away into the distance quickly, but I could hear a different set of footsteps coming towards me. My rescuer. I blinked away the last of the spots in my eyes and looked up at him.

“Luke?”

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay. Just relax, let me check for damage. Uh, I mean, I know you can’t relax right now after that, but try to stay still. Okay?”

He leaned down and scooped me right up off the ground in a bridal carry, and the light around him faded away. I knew he was a big guy, but picking me up should have taken some effort at least. Instead he started carrying me away as though I was made of feathers, while poking around to make sure nothing was broken.

I should have said something, I had a thousand questions running through my mind. But all I could do was rest my head against his shoulder and begin to cry.

Three hours later, I was wrapped in a blanket, sitting on my bed with a mug of hot chocolate, a bowl of ice cream and half a reheated pizza. Dad had freaked when Luke brought me into the house. I’d eventually managed to convince him that I was just banged up and bruised and could wait until the morning to go to the hospital, but nothing could convince him to stop checking in and bringing me snacks every few minutes. It wasn’t like I didn’t appreciate it, but I still felt sick from all the fear and exhaustion, too tired to move and too anxious to sleep, and it was just too much to handle. I couldn’t deal with another person right now. Couldn’t even deal with myself.

There was another knock on my door. I didn’t respond this time.

The door opened after a little bit, but this time it was Luke, not Dad. He’d stuck around, made some phone calls, talked with Dad about what happened, did… some other stuff, I didn’t have any spare attention to pay. He walked in gingerly and sat beside me.

“So, ah,” he finally said. “About what happened. Do you know what it was?”

What it was. I’d spent the past three hours trying as hard as I could not to think about that. I’d replayed every other part of the evening over and over and over and over inside my mind, going over every dumb decision that led me to be out in the woods alone and beating myself up for them. Like for starters, I could’ve remembered to bring my phone with me when I left study group. Luke had told me he followed me home so he could return it, so in a way it was why he found me, but if I’d held onto it then I would never have needed to be found in the first place. Idiot. I was such an idiot.

What it was. It was so dark, I’d been panicking, I never actually saw that much. I remembered flashes. Impressions.

Definitely not human. Sharp, predatory teeth. A disgusting drooling tongue. A matted tuft of fur. And I remembered how absolutely terrified I was.

I still hadn’t answered Luke. Probably because I didn’t like the answer. That’s why I hadn’t wanted to think about it, right?

“...A dog,” I whispered. “It was just a dog. Feral, I guess.” The words sounded strange as I started to say them, like there was something off about them, but almost right away that feeling was replaced with certainty. Of course it had been a dog. A big one, short-furred, with a blunt snout full of sharp teeth, howling and snapping at me as I tried to run, its paws pressing down on my chest. No wonder I’d been so terrified.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a weird look pass over Luke’s face. Definitely not a happy one, but not a sad one either. I didn’t know what to make of it, and I didn’t have the energy in me to care.

“Okay,” he said. “Alright. I have to head back home, but… You try to get some rest, okay?” He awkwardly patted me on the shoulder and got up to leave. He hesitated as he reached the door, and I felt like I should take that moment to say goodbye, or thank you, or something, but I couldn’t. Everything was too numb, a wall of nothing holding back a tidal wave of emotions, and if I said anything or did anything, that wall might break and let it all loose.

I didn’t move a muscle for the rest of the night. Just sat there, staring at the wall and trying not to think about anything at all. I must have fallen asleep at some point though, because I dreamed, vividly and for what felt like a lifetime. I couldn’t remember what the dreams were about, but I remembered how they made me feel. Grief. Loss. Rage against a world that couldn’t understand. And I remembered a voice. It was soft and kind, but hearing it made me want to scream until my throat was raw again.

“It was just a dog.”