I was only a few years old when they adopted me.

Mother was always sweet to me, she was the one who convinced father to make me a part of the family. She was always so quiet, so smart, her voice was that of silk. She could put me to sleep with only the sound of her voice. I loved my mother dearly.

Sometimes I wondered if Father even wanted me in the first place. He was never particularly a fan of me, though he never showed it. He wasn't mean of course, just...distant. I don't think I've ever had any sort of bonding moment with him. I think he was suspicious of me, unsettled by my silence. Sometimes I would hear him talking about me to mother, he said I was too quiet. That something was off about me. Mother would only ignore him.

By far, though, my most favorite in the family was my sister. She was just like Mother—quiet, gentle, subtle and yet so brave—and she was so kind to me. She was always there for me, she greeted me with open arms. Sometimes I felt as though I was what Angeline adored most in the world.

At first of course, Father had made me a bit unsettled. I was hesitant around the house, very shy and reluctant to accept most of what was offered to me. Maybe it was homesickness, but I just wasn't used to this household, or these people. But Angeline never cared. I will admit, when I first met her, I was horribly shy and tried not to socialize too much with her. Old habits made me quiet, I didn't dare make any sort of a fool of myself out of fear of being outcasted again. Angeline put a quick stop to that, though. She showed me such a sweet kindness that drew me in, and before long, I was addicted to this beautiful individual. After only a few weeks, it had felt like home, all because of Angeline.

The living arrangement was strange.

Sometimes I would sleep in my own room, that is how it was in the beginning. But sometimes, Angeline would come and gently shake me awake. She would smile at me, give me that gorgeous trickle of sun I so much admired. Then she would sneak me into her room. Father never liked it though, not at all. Once he came in to check on Angeline, and he made it clear he didn't want me to sleep with her on her bed. From then on, if I was to sleep with Angeline, I had to sleep on the floor beside her bed; though I couldn't comprehend why. But I didn't care. I was with Angeline.

We grew together, years we spent together, Angeline and I. We were always there for each other on some of our darkest days. I remember the day Angeline made cookies for the first time. They were a flop. It was funny, of course; seeing her struggle time and time again, the two of us spending hours in the kitchen in hopes of reviving what had obviously been lost long ago. She was so frustrated that day. I think what makes this one of her most admirable moments, though, was when she had persevered through, and was finally rewarded with her sweet goal. Flour embedded the pores on her skin, sugar dusted her cheeks and scattered all about on the tiles on the floor, piles of dishes stacked with failures, but she was done. Angeline had done it, and I was proud of her. She always managed to pull through.

Some of the moments I treasure most with Angeline would be whenever we go lay in the grass and gaze at the skies. Angeline loved the moon and the stars. The crisp night air grazing our skin as our glassy eyes stared indefinitely at the world above us, serenity tied with the beauty of the night—these moments were golden to me. Sometimes, though, Angeline would begin to tear, and I would watch as her shaky palms extended towards the moon itself. Her eyes would stare lovingly at it, unblinkingly for minutes at once. "Do you think Grandma is up there?"

My heart would break in sync with her voice when she said this. I never knew how to respond to that. All I could ever do was embrace the stubborn silence with her, so there we would lie in the bittersweet sway of the moonlight.

There were always a few bumps in the road, but overall, my life was truly perfect. It was Mother and Father and Angeline and I, and for the first time in my life, I had a home. I had a family. I had something to live for—my dearest friend to look after as she would me. It truly was Angeline and I against the world. Until the day everything had changed.

It was late at night when it happened, it was all so fast.

The night was cool, and the air was fresh. You could hear the soft whirring of wind whispering in the trees, caressing the framing of the window above Angeline's bed. School had been out that day, and would be again in the morning. Mother and Father had stepped out, only for a few minutes, they said. I had just settled down beside her, already drifting off, when we were both jolted awake by screeching of the alarms above our heads.

Angeline was quick on her feet, already jumping out of her bed and heading towards the door. I quickly scrambled after her, and that's when the smell hit me. Smoke engulfed my lungs and burned my nose, and immediately I ducked and kept my nose to the ground. Angeline did the same, crouching low on the ground. "Come on, we can make it," She nudged me, and I nodded, following close behind her. We passed her door frame, and stumbled slowly towards what we had hoped was our front door. Colors of red and clawed at our eyes, the thick black clouds stung our eyes. Angeline crawled towards the door, I watched as her pace began to slow. She tried calling out for help, but all she could manage was a weak cry that itched in the back of her raw voice. I tried my best to yell, scream at the top of my lungs, but the sound of the roaring flames engulfed our petrified cries.

I watched as the flames gnawed at what was once our beloved home. The couches where we once rested were lit with flames. The walls and roof were dusted in ash, shrinking and failing to withstand for much longer. We passed the broken walls and burnt floors and decorative pillows, Angeline hacking just inches in front of me. Our eyes were failing us, Angeline's feet were raw and my own I couldn't feel anymore. I took one last glance at the dining table, the place where we all once sat happily, where our family was always together. Now it was lit in colors of ruthless reds and raging oranges, the inferno beating our nostalgia mercilessly. The tiles grew ashy and bits of our home began falling around us. I stumbled around the corner, relying on my ears to listen where Angeline was, her thinning steps and coughs being the only direction I could rely on.

We began hearing signs of hope, cars whirring and sirens blaring faintly outside our home gave us small boosts of energy to keep going. For every time Angeline or I would begin to slow, a voice outside would call out to us. Someone is coming for us. Just a little longer, Angeline.

We were almost there, I could feel the minute relief radiating from Angeline. Just barely, we could make out the door, only on the other side of the room. I glanced at Angeline, and my heart broke at the ash that clung to her face. Burn scars littered her skin, and yet...with all her strength, she mustered the tiniest of smiles at me. A shining star of reassurance, a promise we would make it out. We are almost there.

Bits of pieces of glass scarred our hands and feet, our cries of pain only barely heard. But those voices, searching the home, just barely dodging us were my own motivation. I would make sure to get us out of there.

We inched closer and closer to the door, and just when it seemed as if we were to be saved, one last horrific screech was let out by the roof above us. Then a chunk of it fell...right on Angeline's leg.

My ears twitched and tears welled in my eyes at the sound of her pained screams. Her voice broke and nearly silent sobs filled our broken home. The smell of burning flesh terrified me, for a moment I was frozen in fear of losing Angeline.

She sat there on the floor, unable to move. She struggled for a bit, before all at once silencing. She fully collapsed on the floor. No, no! You're not supposed to give up, no yet, not ever! You're supposed to defy the impossible. You're supposed to try...

"Do you think I'll see Grandma up there?"

She weakly smiled up at me, then at the open door just a few feet away from us, staring at the moon.

NO, I thought. I won't let you take her from me! This is the girl who has loved me unconditionally from the very beginning. The one who held my hand and walked through the dark with me. This is my castle of security, the one being whose presence is my safety and who holds my eternal peace. This is the angel who showed me kindness when I thought I would never see it again. I will NOT allow you to take away from the only one who ever shown me love!

It was with a burning rage and heart full of love and determination that allowed me to gather every remaining ounce of strength in my body to move towards Angeline. I felt my body scream as I approached her. Her eyes were shut, but her small shallow breaths urged me to do something.

I went just behind her, and with all of my power, I kicked off the debris that had hurt my Angeline. Her breath hitched, and it hurt my heart to know that I had caused her more pain. My own breath was fading, my eyes were burning and swarms of unbelievable pains stabbed my insides, piercing my lungs. Though it could not stop me from grabbing Angeline by the rags of what was once her favorite shirt, and dragging her to the door. We crashed down the few stairs that led down to the lawn, and I released my grip on her. I couldn't see much, just blurred colors and lights, and barely audible voices and footsteps running towards Angeline and I.

Mother and Father are here.

I smiled and watched as a team of different people tended to Angeline, lifting her onto a small bed.

Mother and Father stood right by her; mother crying and shaking, father trying to calm her and Angeline. I watched as Angeline gasped and choked, her beautiful eyes opening just barely. She is going to be okay.

I smiled weakly at my Angeline. Just before they whirred her away, she saw me. She smiled ever so weakly at me just as the doors of the ambulance closed shut. No one else seemed to notice me, but that was okay.

Exhausted, I finally gave in to the fatigue that had been growing on my insides. I fell into the soft, cool grass and watched as a multitude of people rushed around the house, all clad in suits and adorning hats and hoses, killing the blazing inferno. I lay there, and slowly felt more and more at ease as I gave into my weakness. I looked up at the night sky, just like Angeline and I always used to. I watched the stars glow, more and more blooming with every second passing. I gazed at the blurring sky as the stars danced with the moon. Angeline loves the moon.

I smiled one last time, reliving the beautiful memories I had shared with my Angeline. She is safe now. Angeline is safe now.

My glossy eyes lowered, staring at the world around me one last time before finally lowering to my paws.

Yes, she is safe.