3WW (Incubate, Nightmare, Vanity): Dog Days

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. No characters are based on real people, whether living or dead. Any resemblance to a real person is pure coincidence.

St. Paul says that it's when you're weakest that you're strongest. Or something like that. I'm not really religious, but that line has stuck with me since the night when I realized it was true.

It was late 2008. Sometime in October. I had just broken up with my boyfriend - and the father of my two kids - because I found out he was cheating. It was the second time with the same woman. Hell no, I said to him when he came looking to make up. I kicked his ass out of my life.

A few weeks later I got called to a meeting at work. At four on a Friday. You see where this is going. They told me they were downsizing. Laying me off. I'd worked there as an admin for like seven years, and they laid me off. They made sure to tell me I wasn't fired. So I could get unemployment. Thanks for not firing me, I told them.

I knew my benefits were going to run out so I made appointments for me and my kids to go to the doctor and dentist. Since I knew I couldn't pay for insurance and food too. And I had no idea when I would get another job. The kids were fine. But I wasn't. I found out I had AIDS. The doctor started talking about incubation periods and cocktails, but all I could think about was how I was going to kill that lying, cheating asshole who gave it to me.

I didn't kill him. But I thought about it. Loosening the lug nuts on his tires. Just doing one of those murder suicides. But I love my kids too much to do something like that.

I found out about that on a Wednesday. And so, I asked my mom to take the kids over the weekend so I could 'go out with friends'. I don't think she believe me, but she didn't push either. I dropped the kids off on Friday night and went back to the house that I couldn't afford. The mail had another eviction notice that I wasn't going to answer.

I went up to the bathroom and looked in the vanity mirror. I had big circles under my eyes; I couldn't even tell who it was looking back at me. It was all a nightmare. A never ending nightmare that I couldn't control. They say God doesn't give you any more than you can handle. Not what you think you can handle. But what you can handle. Well, I didn't think I could handle anything else.

Then I heard something downstairs. It sounded like scratching at the front door. Not normal. So, I went down to see what was up. I looked out the window and saw a couple guys with masks on. And it wasn't Halloween. Figures, I thought. Yeah, I didn't really react too badly. Just said 'figures' to myself. And thought about what I was going to do next. I had two thoughts. Let them come in and do whatever. Maybe kill me. Or rape me. Or just beat the hell out of me.

Then I thought, no, that's not who I am. I wasn't going to give up. Because I had worked too damn hard to be a good mom and a good person. And that's when it came to me. I have no idea where it came from, but I heard myself bark. Bark like that old freakin Rottweiler that lived next to us and that killed all the neighborhood cats. I barked again. Then I got on all fours and kept barking. And jumping up and down. And scratching at the door. I just let loose and did that for a good three or four minutes.

When I got up and looked out the window, there was no one there. No ski masks. No scratching. Nothing.

I went to the kitchen table and sat down. Took a pad and a pen and started writing. After about an hour of thinking and writing, I had my plan of attack. For getting a job. For going to school for nursing. For the man I wanted. For the house I wanted. And the car. And the college education for my kids. I just wrote it all down. And there it was.

Now, I have a job with good insurance. I'm going to school. I'm saving money. I live in an apartment with my kids. And I'm making it. All because out of nowhere I just started barking like a dog.