Aria
I had been having that same nightmare for almost my entire life.
It was always the same: Sarah standing over me, preparing to strike. That feeling of fear, of knowing that she was going to hurt me and that no one would come to my rescue, because no one ever cared.
And then that black dog leaping over me, protecting me.
Followed by the flash of a knife embedding itself in his side before the blade turned to me next.
That wasn’t how it had really happened, of course. The fluffy black puppy I had rescued when I was a kid had just bitten Sarah a little and scared her more than anything. But in my dreams, the outcome was far, far worse.
And sometimes, like tonight, my brain couldn’t distinguish dreams from reality and I would wake up screaming and fumbling at my bod
