I sat on my sister-in-law’s basement steps. The day was as ordinary as it could get. I smelt the roast chicken on the stove. The kids were in the basement playing with their toys. I took off my shoes and tossed them into the corner. The house was flickering with a soft glow from the vanilla scented candles. I walked downstairs to watch the kids. They were scattered around the floor. I heard a knock at the door. My mother walked down the steps. She had a look on her face. It wasn’t exactly sad, but it definitely was not happy. I stood up to grab my stuff. She was talking to Sonya. I heard them.

“I had to put him down.” I stared at my mom. Then I heard the name; Stormy. I ran up the steps, two at a time. All I could see in my eyes was red. I was enraged. I grabbed my shoes and sat down on the steps. Very slowly I tried to put them on. My fingers were trembling. Mom walked up the stairs just in time to see me burst into tears. I looked into her sad face. I couldn’t here anything but my broken sobs. I was heartbroken, why didn’t she tell me. She had punched a hole through my heart.

Finally she sat down beside me and enveloped me into her long arms. She just kept telling me she was sorry and trying to calm me down. It was helping, but not much. I could still taste my salty tears on my lips. She picked me up and brought me to her car. There we sat alone in the car, silently praying for our lost dog, Stormy.