Kriti sat abruptly on her bed, frightened. She gripped the thin bed sheets tightly with her trembling hands. Her bed sheet was drenched in sweat. The window just above her was flinging in and out. The hot summer night wind was gushing into the room. The squeaking sound of the window was very unnerving. Hovering above her were strange shadows dancing on the ceiling. She jumped on her bed and quickly fastened the window.
She turned on the light. The room sparked with fluorescent lights and she glanced at the clock. It was 00: 00, on the dot. Suddenly, she heard a distinct tap on her door. Her pulse began to race. Who could it be? Slowly, she stood up to put her legs on her slippers. Her eyes started to search for something to defend herself with. She looked at the stick leaning on the desk. She grasped the stick. ‘It was heavy’, she thought, ‘will be a good weapon’. After all, she needed protection, she’d read that an average man was twice as strong as an average woman. And women were less likely to stalk others in the middle of nowhere in the middle of a night.
She took a deep breath, regained some courage and walked towards the door. The tapping was getting louder. Her heart was throbbing furiously beneath her thin nightgown. Fighting the fear, she walked to the door. TAP. The tapping was now even more distinct. A lump appeared in her throat as she swallowed, took a deep breath and boldly moved towards the door. With a hand on the stick, she stretched her other to the doorknob.
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“I’m coming,” she said as calmly as she could.
The tapping suddenly stopped. She turned the knob and it clicked open. She then pulled it wide open. Quickly putting her hand back on the stick. Darkness. The bleak wind passed through her body and a shudder passed with it.
“Boow”, a squeaky nervous sound gripped her attention. Her eyes dropped to the ground and she saw, lying there on the freezing ground, was a trembling puppy, with red scratches all over its body. As soon as the dog saw her with a stick in her hands it tried to run away but its wounded legs didn’t allow it to. The dog had been abused so badly that merely the sight of people frightened it. Kriti, in a moment, was filled with overwhelming sadness.
She threw the stick away, picked the puppy tenderly with both her hands, caressed it for a while- and took it for a bath. For a week, she tended to it, fed it, and even clothed it.
The dog’s wounds healed. It looked healthy and strong and followed her around everywhere she went. She named her Mina. Even when she let Mina out, she would eventually come back to her. Every night Kriti would wash Mina off all the dirt she would gather from playing in the street. And every night, she puts her to bed alongside her, cuddling her, seeking comfort in each other, throughout the night.
