Part 1: Coming Together
Dark skies spotted with the pin point lights of distant stars were seen through the windows of the Green residence as a teenage girl, looking the age of fifteen, scrounged through her refrigerator.
“We never have a damn thing.” She whispered to herself, grabbing the jar of peanut butter and the carton of milk.
Moving quickly and with much practiced skill, she made herself the snack she always resorted to, a peanut butter sandwich with a tall glass of milk accompanying it.
Grabbing the plain white plate the sandwich was sitting on, she moved over towards the living room which was where she resorted to watching TV late at night. To be honest it was not all that late, only 10:30 or so. Still, it was late for the girl, with her being used to going to sleep early on account of school and all. Tonight was not a school night, it was Friday night in actuality and she had all the time in the world. Despite that fact she finished her sandwich in one sitting of Friends and proceeded to wander up stairs to her bed. She stopped to turn off her computer and change into pajamas, well, change into pajama pants at least. Flicking her light switch, she crawled into bed, pulling the covers up and rapping herself in them. She was asleep in no time.
That night her dreams were very vivid, which was strange since she normally couldn’t remember her dreams at all. But tonight they were so very real, she almost doubted that they were dreams. Every single one of her dreams was alike; each incorporated a talking English setter that she felt she knew so well, almost as if it were another part of herself that she had just never gotten the time to talk to. Each one was a tad different, in one they were chatting in a tear drop, and other in her sandwich she had finished hours earlier and yet another on top of her best friend’s head. Either way they were all fairly pleasant dreams and she was happy to have had them.
When the morning finally rolled around, and the soft strokes of sunlight hit her face, she was glad to be able to remember her string of dreams from last night. She was facing the wall when she woke up, and deciding to actually get out of bed, she stretched and rolled over. Her eyes were still closed when she had rolled over so she had reached out her arm in front of her. Instead of touching her blankets, they landed on the soft, warm body of what felt like a large dog. Her first thought was that it was one of her own golden retrievers.
“Max, Molly, whichever of you two it is, get up.” She groaned, still very much asleep
When the dog did not remove itself from the bed, she decided to push it off. With all of her force, she shoved, feeling it give way slightly, and then hear it tumble to the floor. With much surprise, she suddenly felt as if her side had just hit something hard. She instinctually grabbed at her side, gingerly rubbing it. By now her eyes were open, and she was looking over the side of her bed. Instead of the usual tangle of golden fur that belonged to one of her dogs, there was a white and orange mass lying there. She jumped back, pushing herself against the wall, pulling her blankets all around her in one motion.
“What… what is this dog doing here?” she asked herself in a whisper
“I’ve always been here Liz” was the reply she got, but not out loud, no, it most definitely came from her own mind.
“What... what was that?” Now she was really starting to freak out, and out of curiosity, slowly crawled to the edge of the bed, where the dog was still lying on the ground, it’s tail wagging furiously.
“Did… did you just talk to me?” she asked, thinking the question stupid the second she had asked it.
“Why, yes I did.” The dog replied out loud this time.
Again, Liz jumped back, surprised by the dogs answer. Instead of her climbing back over to the edge of the bed, the dog jumped onto it, sitting in front of Liz. Slowly, and very cautiously, she reached her hand forward, placing it atop the dog’s head. The moment her flesh touched his fur, something felt right, like something that was missing was finally here.
“You… you’re my…” the term slipped her mind at the moment. She knew who, and what, this dog was. She knew her friend talked to her… whatever it was called, before this had happened.
“Daemon.” The dog filled in Liz’s blank, licking her hand.
“Yes, that’s it.” She replied, continuing to caress the dog’s fur.