Wandering through the dark, lonely streets, the girl clutched the azure sweater to her chest; the sweater was torn and blood-covered. Though she didn’t understand why she was carrying the sweater so protectively, she knew that if she let go of it even for a moment, she would disappear. She glanced around the empty streets, hoping with false hope that there would be someone there to help her. Like she had expected, there was no one. She would have to somehow do this on her own.

“You know you can’t do this on your own. You know that it’s not permitted,” a soft, yet still firm voice said from behind her. Turning so fast that she should have fallen, she came face to face with an old man who appeared to be in his late eighties with baby blue eyes that shown brightly in light cast by the full moon. He was dressed in a black suit and tie, which caused a sharp contrast to his white hair.

“I know, sir, but surely they can make an exception just this once for me.” She saw the man flinch when she said ‘they’; to even make a reference to ‘them’ was enough to instill fear in anyone who was either very young or elderly. A fear of ‘them’ seemed to be the only thing that the newly bred and the nearly dead had in common. Of course, for the younger ones, the fear gradually disappeared only to resurface when they grew older.

“You know they won’t do that. They are only allowing you to do this because you deserve this chance.” The man looked at the gold pocket watch the girl never saw him without. “You’re running out of time.”

“I know, sir. I’m doing the best I can. There is no one here so I might have to do this myself.”

“For the last time, whippersnapper: that is forbidden. To do that would be an automatic breach-o-contract which would result in…well, you know.” He looked at his polished black shoes and saw only the reflection of his sad blue eyes and the horrors they hid.

Suddenly, the harsh sound of footsteps reached their ears causing them to turn in the direction of the disturbance. The girl closed her eyes and concentrated on the footsteps that were growing ever closer. She saw a young man, mid-twenties, with bleach-blonde hair and steel grey eyes that were clouded. Beside him walked a rather large dog, a German Shepard to the best of her knowledge.

“Don’t worry, sir. He’s blind.”

“Yes, well, the dog he’s with most certainly isn’t and you know dogs don’t like our type. Just remember this one thing: you have two hours to do this.” That said, he backed into an alley and was lost to the shadows. The girl merely shook her head causing her glossy raven-colored hair to fall into her face.

The blind man rounded the corner with his dog. Almost immediately upon seeing her, the dog began growling and snarling viciously. The girl gave an annoyed sigh and stuck her tongue out at the dog, knowing it wouldn’t improve his attitude toward her and that he couldn’t hurt her.

“Beau, calm down boy. What’s the matter?” The man stooped down to pet the dog gently on the head. It seemed to calm the dog down, but the girl could still hear the warning in the dog’s growls: Stay away from my master for I am his guardian and I know what you are.

Deciding it was worth a shot, the girl spoke to the man. “He probably just smells my cat, Fluffer, on me.”

The man looked toward her. Up close, the girl noticed the scars near his eyes that had caused his blindness. Despite the scars, the man had a kind face. Even his unseeing grey eyes seemed to be radiating a type of kindness that was so rarely seen. “What’s your name, little girl?”

“It’s Kendra Parks, sir.”

“Very well, Kendra. What are you doing out so late? Are you lost?” He tried to take a step toward her, but Beau remained stubbornly in one spot snarling his warning even louder. Stay away from my master for I am his guardian and I know what you are.

“No, sir, I’m not lost. The problem is that I’m locked out of my house and my parents are at the hospital so I can’t get in. I don’t know where the hospital is, you see.”

“Well, I know where it is and I wouldn’t mind taking you there.” Beau snarled again louder than before. Stay away from my master for I am his guardian and I know what you are. “My name is Damian Robertson and this is Beau.” He walked over to her and extended his arm. “Please, Lady Kendra, allow us to be your humble escorts to your destination of this fair land known as Hospital.”

Kendra couldn’t help herself; she giggled. He was funny and polite, an odd combination. Kendra took his arm and looked challengingly at Beau, daring him to snarl his warning again. He glared back and, in his eyes, was understanding. He understood what she was doing and why; he understood that she wouldn’t harm his master. He began walking every so often turning left or right.

“So, Kendra, are your parents visiting someone in the hospital?”

“Yes, sir,” she answered softly. “My father is visiting my mother. She has bone cancer, you see, and it’s in the terminal stage.”

“Oh,” he said the sadness and sympathy present in his eyes and voice, “I’m sorry. My father had that, too. He died a few months before I lost my sight.”

Kendra knew that she probably shouldn’t ask, but she was curious. “How did you lose your sight, sir?”

His eyes grew even cloudier if that was possible and Kendra knew he was recalling the day that his life had changed. “I was having a fight with my uncle when he was drunk and he threw a busted beer bottle at me. This happened two months before my thirteenth birthday.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Being blind isn’t really that much of a handicap. I get through life okay with Beau.” He smiled affectionately at the German Shepard, who began to march proudly. Finally, they reached the plain, gray building. Together, they entered and walked toward the elevator.

“My mother’s in room 290 on the fourth floor,” Kendra whispered when they entered the elevator. She glanced at the man’s watch. Thirty-seven minutes left. The elevator stopped at the fourth floor and they disembarked. She led her companions to room 290. Together, they entered.

Her mother was in the bed; her eyes were closed and her hair untidy and unwashed. Kendra smiled sadly and felt the tears welling up in her eyes. Her mother had always been such a strong, invincible person. Her father was nowhere to be seen. Of course he wouldn’t be in the room with his dying wife. He was probably flirting with one of the younger nurses.

Kendra and her companions walked to the side of the bed. Kendra throat was so tight with the tears she was refusing to cry that she found that she couldn’t talk. She turned to Damian. “Please, sir, give my mother this sweater. See, she made it for me and me alone. I just want her to have something to reassure her that I’m here and I’m okay.”

Damian nodded and placed the sweater beside the sleeping woman. Her pale lips formed a small half-smile as she clutched the blood-stained, torn azure sweater to her chest. As if by magic, color returned to her face and her eyes fluttered open. With the life that returned to her emerald eyes she looked at Damian strangely, though he couldn’t see that.

“Who are you?” she asked in the same strong voice she had always had.

“I’m Damian Robertson. Your daughter asked me to give you that sweater. She said that you made it for her.”

“That I did, but I don’t understand. How could my precious Kendra ask you to do anything? She’s been dead for over three years.”

While the two adults puzzled over this, Kendra stood by the door waiting for her companion. The old man walked in and smiled. He glanced at his watch. She had made it with but five minutes to spare.

“Congratulations. They will be very pleased that you succeeded.”

Kendra said nothing. She stared at the floor. She had been so close to having her mother wrap her arms around her again.

“Don’t look so sad. You’ll see her again when it’s her time.”

“Why should I have to wait?! I died before I should have and I didn’t get a second chance!”

“Your case was different; you know that.”

With a resigned sigh, Kendra nodded. “You’re right, sir. I know you’re right. If I didn’t give my mother my sweater she would have died and it wouldn’t have been fair.”

Smiling, the man placed a gentle hand on Kendra’s shoulder. “Come on, whippersnapper, let’s go home now.”

Together, they left the room and walked straight into a tunnel of bright white lights, leaving in their wake a tearful mother, a confused blind man, and an all knowing German Shepard who gave one long, lonesome howl. Find peace in the next world, spirit of the raven-haired girl, for I will protect your loved ones the way I protect my master.