I feel an unsettling breeze as I walk down the stairs. It feels dark like a downtown alley in the middle of night. I remember my best friend used to run down the stairs in protection, not having a single worry. Little did he know, that made me feel safe to come down the pitch black stairs. I continued to walk down the stairs and turn on the lights. I see the two long tan couches, cyan lazy boy, old foosball table, and large TV on top of a brown wooden stand. I walked towards all the furniture and I suddenly get a vision: Two Blue bean bags and my dog laying on top. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It had been so long since I have seen my friend.

He has a silver-white color with brown spots that matches the color of his eyes. His tiny tail, which is smaller than his ears, wagged as I make my way towards him. My hand strokes the fluffy and delicate fur, feeling like a cloud in heaven. Each eye, one with a white lid and the other brown, closes as I pet closer to his face. Then I scratch his head, relaxing him even more. My hand makes it down to his chest where he has extra fluffy hair. Suddenly, his eyes open as a loud noise arrives. Then all consciousness comes back as the thought of my dead dog slowly fades away. 

My eyes fill up with cold and dreadful tears as I lay in my bed staring at the ceiling. It had be only two long and despairings weeks since he had passed. My day continued like I was in a continuous simulation with me remembering how life was when he was still here. I had realized that I took him for granted and should have spent more time with him. I always remembered a quote: “People actually die twice, once when they die physically, and again when they are forgotten.” So I thought to myself, “I will never forget you Riggs.”