Brown met Brown. Hers- loving, trusting. Mine-Desperate, Disbelieving.
I wanted to kill him
Ours was an odd relationship. She had never graced me with one of her sloppy, impulsive kisses. I had never attempted to give her one of my rare hugs. Yet, somehow, our connection was deep. Deeper than mere displays of physical affection could hope to convey. A bond forged through understanding, and shared silence interspersed with "conversation" as she listened while I spoke.
We were friends.
And now I see the light dying in her eyes from across the room. And I hate myself for not having the strength to move over and embrace her. Our first and our last.
But I can't. I'm emotionally drained from watching her life force ebb and flow away from her in slowest and most agonising way possible.
And I want to kill the coward who struck her down and ran.
But I know I won't. Because I'm a coward too.
So I'll stand here in the corner and hold back the mist in my eyes and I'll e strong-in my own way, as I watch the strongest person I know die.
Our eyes meet for the final time and the acceptance in her eyes stirs me. I nod slowly at her mottled form-the wag in her tail now fading fast. I am not her master, it is not my right, nor my duty-but I have given her permission to let go. "Goodbye dear, you've been a good girl."
And she fades into the Black.