PROMPT

82). "You know I trust you, right?"

Lightening streaked across the sky, illuminating every shadow in sight in the darkness of night. It was a momentary relief from stumbling around blind, but it was the earth-shattering thunder that followed that was unbearable. The rain pounded the ground like angry fists against an assailant. Puddles the size of lakes formed in yards and drowned drains along the sidewalk.

It was a perfect summer storm.

It was a shame that not everyone enjoyed this kind of weather.

Then again, who could enjoy it when they were trudging through it?

Was it because he was out in it?

No.

Was it because he was alone and on edge?

No.

Matt certainly hated this weather. He had always despised storms, ever since he was a child. There was just something so menacing about every natural phenomenon and disaster; Matt couldn’t understand why anyone would choose to enjoy it.

He especially despised it because every splash of the rain soaked him from head to toe, impacting his body like a prodding, human finger.

Matt was a pet, a miniature biological construction humans created to emulate being human without providing them rights and simple liberties. Even though every pet possessed sentience, they were deemed lesser beings and sold off like the common guinea pig at the pet stores.

Matt had been to many homes in his past, causing trouble now and then, but he had finally done it.

He had escaped.

The little boy who insisted on playing soldier with him had forgotten to clamp the lock completely shut on Matt’s cage, and it took no time at all for the six inch tall humanoid to slip out of the cage, shimmy down the desk he was on using the few pieces of functional Army equipment he could find, and made a mad dash for the front door just in time for the father to come home. Though Matt’s skill was in intellect, thriving in literature and history, the skills he gained in the short time of playing soldier were already coming in handy.

His stealth and agility had increased dramatically, giving him the chance of escaping to the outside world.

Matt dared not stay inside the house, lest he be found by that intimidating child. Still, outside wasn’t a long-term viable solution either. The raging storm was preferable to the child, but just barely.

Matt half sped-walked, half jogged along the sidewalk, dodging raindrops and puddles, unsure of where he was going next. What he did know was he was done. He was done being a pet. He was done playing by rules he didn’t help create. He was just done. Matt didn’t want to go back into a cage, but he certainly didn’t want to try and survive outside. His current skillset wouldn’t get him through the rest of the week.

Was there even a way he could have a compromise of both?

He didn’t know.

What he did know was that he would drown in this torrential rain if he didn’t find cover soon.

The pet glanced around, eyes squinting in the spattering rain, as he tried to gain his bearings. His original home was nowhere in sight, but it was obvious he was still in the same neighborhood. The houses all had yards which looked miles long, but they weren’t very wide; that is, for human standards.

Unable to see very far, Matt made the only logical decision he could, which was to walk toward the first house he spotted with a completely dark interior. If the inside was dark, it meant no one was awake and it would make his entry into the residence ideal.

Sure enough, there was a place two houses away that stood still and silent. There were no lights on and, what was even better, the exterior was made of brick rather than vinyl, meaning he could get a good enough grip to climb the exterior of the home. He jogged along and was almost there by the driveway when two, blinding headlights appeared from behind and zoomed past, splashing the contents of the road puddles over him like a tidal wave.

Matt tried to regain his footing, but the water was like the clumsy fingers of the child he just left, and he was pulled away from the edge of the sidewalk right beside the yard gutters. Unlike the drainage gutters on the side of the road, which were practically overflowing and unable to empty, the yard gutters emptied into the neighborhood pond, and the water was raging like hungry rapids.

Heart pounding out of his chest in a numbing panic, Matt grappled with the water and thrashed around, trying to grab onto the blades of grass in hopes of stopping himself. The short blades of grass cut at his hands as he failed to keep hold on any of them. His unprepared lungs started burning with what little air filled them.

Tumbling and tossing through the water, it was clear there was nothing to grab onto now. Matt lunged with all his strength and kicked off of something solid, launching him in a random direction. Thankfully, that direction was up. Head breaking the surface, Matt was able to take in a single, life-saving breath as he spotted the gaping maw of the drainage pipe ahead.

Matt remembered reading something about currents dragging people out to sea and that, to survive, a person needed to swim sideways. It was the only option at this point. The pet thrashed in the water, not being a proficient swimmer, and tried to make it to the edge.

He was almost there, but two more passing cars sent a wall of water taller than him crashing down into the yard gutters. He gulped down a mouthful of water by mistake, expelling what precious air was in his lungs. By some miracle, Matt was tossed onto the other side of the stream, but not far enough to make it to safety.

Losing strength, Matt reached out with what felt like the last of his strength and, to his surprise, latched onto the metal rim of the gaping hole of the pipe. Also, to his surprise, Matt was near the surface and able to take a quick gasp of air before the water crested over his head again.

Matt’s body was engulfed entirely by the water again, and his grip was failing.

There was a horrid, sinking feeling in his chest. It was a thought that occurred frequently for the pet, and it was this: they – pets – were not made for this world. It was too big. It was too much. Wanting something as great, as big, as freedom was too much for a little pet like him.

Fingers sliding off of the edge of the metal pipe, burning as it cut further into his already injured hands, Matt fought to hold the last of his breath, determined to stay conscious until the end when the water broke again.

The relief of sucking in a partial breath of air was immediately replaced by the current sweeping him into the darkness of the tunnel. Blind and breathless, Matt tumbled through the metallic tube, knocking against the ridged edges and scraping against the limbs wedged in the tube.

Matt felt his body limply being dragged through the rapids before his body slammed into another hard surface. The last of his air escaped his lungs; however, to his complete amazement, his lungs sucked in air and not water as he gasped for air. Instinctually, his body wretched and the water in his lungs spewed out of his mouth and nose. The pet rolled onto his side and continued to cough and vomit up the unwanted water from his body.

It wasn’t until his body calmed that allowed his body to stop tensing that he realized something. There was something off about the surface he was on, specifically because it curved to fit his body and possessed a warmth of its own.

Matt forced his eyes open and, instantly, his heart sank, and the tension returned to his body. The surface was warm and flexible because it was the hand of a human. The distinct swirl of the person’s fingerprints was clear now in his blurry vision.

Minutes. His freedom could be measured in minutes and now he was back in the captive clutches of a human. He looked directly in front of him at the churning water in the drainage ditch of the yard. Was it worth jumping back into the water and risk drowning again? Just to get away?

He lost his chance in a moment as the human stood slowly from crouching, their other hand coming up to form a partial dome over him and the fingers of the hand he was on curling upward, forcing him into the human’s palm. Matt turned around indignantly and glared with what distain he could muster at the human holding him.

Immediately, he met the gaze of a young woman with big, blue eyes. Her hood was up, but he could still make out a mess of curly blond hair under the pale green raincoat. She seemed to be staring at him expectantly, and Matt thought about saying something, but a streak of lightening followed by the cacophonous crash of thunder. Anything he would have said would have been drowned out by the voice of the sky, so he kept quiet instead, locking his jaw and staring at the woman venomously.

After a moment, the woman nodded and walked forward, keeping her hands level. It surprised Matt to see her fingers remain splayed rather than pinching or grabbing his torso. What was even more surprising was the girl walked immediately to the unlit house he planned on infiltrating moments before being washed away.

Matt continued to sit as he watched the woman fish out some keys from her pocket, slip them into the lock, and push herself inside just as another crack of thunder tore through the sky. Despite the raging storm, the woman seemed unbothered by how loud everything was.

This, however, was the least of his concerns.

He could actually care less about the human woman who was holding him. What the pet cared about was getting away as fast as possible. Being held was less than desirable on any given day, especially now.

The woman reached over with her free hand that Matt wasn’t sitting in and flicked the switch. No light. She tried the next one. No light.

“Power is out,” informed Matt snarkily. The woman sighed and walked through the entryway and over to a cabinet near the refrigerator. Slightly struggling with just her one hand, she began rummaging through the contents of the cabinet. This gave Matt enough time to readjust in her hand and peered over the edge. There was a countertop about a foot below the hand he was in. “You could put me down you know.”

The woman didn’t acknowledge him and continued searching for something.

Matt rolled his eyes.

Great. Another human who won’t listen to me. Another arrogant piece of work who will baby and toy with me. Brilliant. 

“Hey, wouldn’t it be better to put me on the larger counter? Looks like there are some emergency flashlights over there,” suggested Matt. Still, no response. She wasn’t even looking at him!

Instead, and seemingly finding what she was looking for, the girl pulled out a white rectangular kit and pulled it from the depths of the cabinet. She then carefully turned and set the box down on the countertop in the middle of the kitchen.

Even more perfect! In the middle of the room where I can’t get away!

Matt watched the woman turn only now and pull two of the emergency flashlights out of the wall with one hand and turned them on, shining them up onto the ceiling so soft, white light reflected off of the white paint.

Carefully, she lowered the hand Matt was sitting on until the back of her hand rested on the countertop. Matt, in a flash, rolled off her hand and stood at his full height. Only now did she look at him once again, her big blue eyes absorbing his form.

Her big blue eyes were thoughtful, and it felt like she could look right through him. Matt didn’t like it one bit. Moving slowly, the woman crouched as her eyes shifted from his arms to his legs to his torso, then back to his face. Once again, she seemed to be staring at him expectantly.

Matt kept his body rigid and dared to take a step forward when he felt a sudden, burning sensation shoot up his leg. He winced and suddenly noticed the scrapes, cuts, and splinters through the torn fabric of his clothes. The dim light was enough to see that the puddle of water that had formed around him was discolored, taking on a reddish, pinkish hue.

Blood.

It wasn’t enough to be alarming or worried, but it was still an immediate problem. Matt wanted to get a better view of his injuries, but he didn’t want to undress in front of this woman either. He had been forced to endure dressing and undressing for the pleasure of his “owners” one too many times already.

Then again, he might not have a choice.

In his peripheral vision, he saw fingers inching toward him, hovering a few inches above the counter and approaching him slowly.

No.

Matt glared up venomously and took a step back, fists clenched and raised in self-defense, as if punching an oncoming finger would make it stop.