This one is dedicated to anyone who jas ever suffered any Anxiety Disorder. Also, a dog named Lucky.

                     BECKY EVANS.

She made her way swiftly up the driveway and into her house. The dog ran quickly inside, happy to be home. She carefully placed her grocery bags on the long table in the hallway and turned to lock the door.

She took one last look outside. She knew no one was there but always checked. It brought her some comfort.

She latched the chain and turned the two locks and a key. She then proceeded to drive the huge wooden plank through the metal loops. Safe.

It had always been like this for her. There are certain traumas in life you just don't come out of unscathed. She just had to. To make sure he never came back from the grave to get her.

She moved into the kitchen ready to make a meal for herself. She lived alone but having a big fancy home cooked meal seemed like the only thing she enjoyed anymore.      

She threw her black coat and scarf across the counter onto the couch. She began unpacking her groceries. This was both the best and most depressing part of her day. To cook for one.

"Hey Bruno. Come boy."

The happy labradour mix ran into the room after exploring the house to ensure no intruder was in it.  She bent down and began taking  off his little orange harness.

Bruno was her service dog. He was there to both protect her and calm her down. She was suffering from severe anxiety and she often got attacks.

Bruno made sure she felt secure and anytime he sensed her heart beat faster, he jumped up to her and put his paw on her chest or dug his face into her tummy. She couldn't count how mant times he had saved her.    

Dinner was done. A decadent stake meal. She was a great cook. It's what she looked forward to everyday. She'd count the hours till dinner time. When she could finally loose all care and go crazy in the kitchen.

She taught a cooking class twice a week so that helped too. Her day job however, was less relaxing. Software engeneering couldn't exactly be called zen.

She heard something. Someone was on her porch. Bruno was already ahead of her and had made his way to the double doors. He was keen and focused. His ears pointing forward and his tail erect. He was ready to move.

She ran quickly. From the living room to her panick room. On the way there she heard the noises grow louder. Oh no! Had the day come? Did he find a way back?

She had always prepared for this day but deep down she never thought it would come. Could a man will himself out of the grave?

She turned around and gave a special whistle to Bruno. By now the valiant dog was barking away. It was clear someone was back there. Seeing Bruno ignored her, she decided to look through her bedroom window.
             

She saw a dark figure move stealthily across her yard towards the fence. He looked back, almost directly at her. He turned and within moments was gone.
            

She was now breathing hard and shallow. Everything was a blur. She felt her way to her panick room. She could feel Bruno somewhere at her feet. He knew what was happening and was leading her to the room. She finally got there. She was slipping further. She tried to focus. She shut the door and sat down.
 
She by now saw nothing but smoke. She felt his paw compress her chest. She had to fight. The fear was grippling. She counted. ONE. TWO. THREE....... By twenty she had recoverd enough to see the phone.

"911?........ Please ... I need help."

That took everything she had left. Her eyes rolled over. Then nothing. No one. She was alone in that final moment.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Who is this woman? If you're paying attention, give me an answer in the commets.

See you at the next chapter dump.😂😂
I can tell you this, it's gonna be a hell of a ride!