The rain was merciless.
It battered Richard's thin frame like a thousand needles, soaking through his clothes, chilling him to the bone. His shoes, worn and cracked, squelched miserably with every step as he stumbled into the backyard, away from the hateful screams that still echoed from inside the house.
The beautiful house, the flowers, the clean windows—it was all a lie. Behind those pristine walls was nothing but rot.
Richard didn't cry.
He didn't scream.
He simply collapsed onto the muddy ground, the cold earth embracing him more kindly than his parents ever had.
His breaths came in shallow gasps, misting weakly in the icy night air. His hands trembled uncontrollably, his body refusing to rise again.
*Maybe it's better this way,* he thought numbly, blinking the rain from his heavy eyes. *Maybe if I just stay here... I'll disappear.*
But he wasn't alone.
From the shadows, a soft whimper cut through the storm.
Elisa.
The little golden-furred dog darted toward him, her body already drenched but her spirit fierce. She nosed Richard's side desperately, whining louder when he didn't respond.
"Elisa..." he whispered weakly, his voice barely a thread of sound.
The loyal dog circled him once, barking sharply, as if scolding him for giving up. Then she grabbed the sleeve of his soaked jacket with her teeth and tugged, small but determined.
Richard stirred faintly under her insistent pulling.
His strength was all but gone, but something about Elisa's stubbornness—the loyalty burning in her soft brown eyes—sparked a flicker of warmth inside his frozen chest.
With great effort, he shifted, allowing himself to be guided by her.
Step by agonizing step, Elisa led him across the muddy backyard, toward the small wooden doghouse tucked against the side of the garden shed.
It wasn't much.
Barely large enough for Elisa herself, let alone a boy of eighteen.
But it was shelter.
It was hope.
Elisa squeezed inside first, yipping encouragingly at him. Richard dropped to his knees, crawling in after her. His head brushed against the low ceiling, his limbs cramped awkwardly within the narrow walls, but he didn't care.
Inside, it was warm—at least compared to the biting rain outside—and it smelled of hay and fur and safety.
Elisa curled herself around him, her small body trembling, but her loyalty unshaken. She pressed against his chest, licking his jawline gently, whining a soft comfort.
For the first time that night, Richard let the tears fall.
Silent, broken tears that bled into Elisa's damp fur.
He buried his face into the scruff of her neck, clutching her tightly.
"You're all I have..." he whispered hoarsely.
"And you're more than enough."
Outside, the rain thundered on, merciless and endless.
Inside that tiny doghouse, two broken souls huddled together against the cruelty of the world.
From across the backyard, still hidden by the fence and shadows, Scarlet watched it all.
Frozen.
Paralyzed by what she had witnessed.
She saw Richard, thrown away like garbage, abandoned by the very people who should have loved him. She saw him crawl after his only companion, seeking warmth and comfort not from family, but from a loyal dog.
Her throat burned with unspoken cries. Her legs refused to move.
'This is the truth,' her mind whispered harshly.
'This is what you never saw before... what you ignored.'
The sight carved deep, jagged wounds into her pride and heart.
Guilt welled up inside her, heavier than the storm clouds above.
Scarlet wanted to run to him, to scream, to pull him into her arms and swear she would never let anyone hurt him again.
But she couldn't move.
She was just a frozen, useless witness to his suffering.
The rain soaked through her school uniform, clinging to her skin, but she didn't care.
Her heart shattered quietly in the dark as she realized —
she had been another hand in his torment.
Another cruel face he had to survive.
And now...
Now she would never look at him the same way again.