"No peeking, Esther." My mom guided me through the apartment, obviously very excited about something. I stumbled around blindly, wanting her to just tell me what it was she was excited about. 

"Come on, Mom, what is it?" I asked as she brought me to a stop. 

"Go ahead, open!" I opened my eyes and saw the cutest puppy I'd ever seen in my life sleeping on our living room couch. It was a Border Collie with floppy ears and soft black and white fur. I put a hand to my mouth and tears fell down my cheeks. "He's all yours."

"Are you fucking serious?" I asked, forgetting to watch my language. Mom didn't scold me; she could see I was too emotional to give a damn. "He's mine?" Mom nodded and I grabbed her for a hug. 

"I thought you could use a companion," she said. I sobbed into her shoulder while the puppy slept, completely unaware his new owner was losing control. "I hope you like him."

"I love him! Thank you!" I pulled away from her and knelt by the couch, using my shirt sleeve to wipe the tears away. The puppy was gorgeous. His ears twitched and he slowly lifted his head. Blinking and yawning, his tongue a mile long, he finally focused his attention on me and stood up, stretching and wagging his tail. "What's his name?" I asked letting him sniff my hand.

"That's up to you," Mom said. "I wanted you to have full control over the name and all that." My mind raced with possibilities. Nothing I came up with seemed good enough for such a prince. 

Not even Prince.

He stood on his hind legs to get better access to my face and I laughed as his tongue tickled my nose. His breath reeked and his nose was wet. I started crying again and he licked my salty tears away. "He's so cute...." I sobbed. "I love him."

"I'm glad," Mom said. "Ever since your dad died...and you don't see Ramona anymore....I thought maybe a dog might liven things up around here. No more dealing with boring old me."

"Don't be silly, Mom, you're not boring," I sniffled. "And right now you're the best mom ever." The puppy sniffed where he had been sleeping and explored the rest of our beat up couch. He was still too tiny to jump down by himself so I readied myself to help him when necessary. Up and down he sniffed the couch and back again.

"He's quite the little scout, isn't he?" Mom asked. Scout. That was his name. It fit like a glove. It's like I didn't even choose it, it was simply his name. And it was perfect. He came back to me and stuck his tiny tongue out to lick my chin. 

"You're my Scout," I whispered. 

**********

The smoke circled above our heads like a wreath. The bottle of Jack sat in front of us. I used Bon's shoulder as a pillow. I rolled my long sweater sleeves over my hands. With the long sleeves I was able to remove my coat. Bon's apartment was too warm for one anyway. I set my cigarette on the ash tray and closed my eyes. "You can stay the night if ya' want," Bon said. "I don't mind."

"Thanks, Bon," I said. "I might take you up on that sometime."

"Why not now?" he asked. I could feel him looking down at me.

"I've got....errands to run," I said. It was true. I was due for a food shopping trip. Should be interesting since I spent quite a bit of my saved money on more heroin after the vial ran out. So far I had been taking it for a couple weeks and I was...fine. Maybe a bit gaunt in appearance but I didn't feel addicted. I would even wait a few days before shooting up again just in case. And so far nothing fatal had happened. There'd been no need to make any promises about staying away. Bon and I were fine. Media loves to scare us. 

"Ang's havin' his birthday in a few days," Bon said. "He invited ya'."

I sighed and nuzzled further into him. "Maybe I'll go."

"He'd like that," Bon said. It was quiet for a minute or two. After watching a soccer game on the television which everyone here called 'footie', we sat on the living room floor of Bon's apartment and had a few drinks with our smokes. The hour was late. "I'd like that too."

It had been kind of nice having a break from work. I hadn't realized how exhausting dancing was until I went without. Oh sure, I'd dance around in my apartment with a record playing but it wasn't quite the same thing. I was just dancing to have fun. And Jeanie wasn't around to rile me up. I still had yet to think of a way to apologize to her. Buy her something? No, Celine wouldn't approve of trying to buy her forgiveness. Who were we all kidding? Jeanie would never forgive me for what I had done. She hated me. She wasn't a fan of any of us really but I was her worst nightmare. A bitch who wouldn't take her bullshit without a fight. 

Emphasis on bitch.

A clock chimed on Bon's wall. It was two in the morning. Just about time for me to head home. I sat up straight and yawned, stretching my arms out in front of me. "You're leavin'?"

"Yeah, I gotta get home," I said, not wanting to stand up. Bon's shoulder was too comfortable and the drinks were starting to hit. But Bon had work in a few hours and I had left Scout alone long enough. I tried to bring him along but he wanted nothing more than to sleep in his bed. I was still sitting on the floor when Bon nudged me with his elbow. "Trying to get rid of me?"

"Course not, jus' wanted to ask if I could walk ya' home," he said. "Didn't get to last time an' I still don't think it right to let ya' wander home by yourself."

"Think I can't take care of myself?" I had no experience in proper self defense but I had a weapon and a bad attitude and that was good enough. 

"I know you can," Bon smiled. "But it's not polite of me to send my friends home without an escort."

Since I had been enjoying Bon's company it only made sense to continue our night a little longer. Knowing good and well if I had been a man, maybe Bon wouldn't be so persistent to take me home. But I understood his concern. The streets this time of night weren't welcoming to a woman, unfortunately. Why the fuck not?

"I'd appreciate it, Bon," I said. Bon stood up first and held his hands out to me and I took them. He pulled me to my feet and I grabbed my coat from wherever I threw it hours ago. Slipping it over my shoulders, I watched as Bon grabbed some random jacket from his closet and threw it on. It was starting to fray and the material was peeling from use. "You wear that one a lot?"

"Used to be my favorite one," Bon said looking it over. "I know, I need a new one."

"It looks good," I said. "It has character." Bon smiled.

"Thanks, hon."

**********

Nobody bothered us on our walk to my apartment. Bon had taken the rest of the whiskey along with us. "Might as well finish it," he said. We stumbled up to the bus stop about a block away from my place. I stopped walking and Bon didn't realize until he was a good few feet away from me. He came back to stand right next to me. "Do ya' live here now?" he asked, pointing at the bench.

"I can find my way back," I said. "The bottle is almost gone and you need it to get yourself back home." Bon swished the remaining contents of the whiskey around in the bottle. 

"I think I've enough fuel to make it another block," he said, swaying on the spot. Aside from his slightly drunken gait, there was no way to know he had been drinking. His eyes were clear and focused, his words were steady and thoughtful. He did however, stumble over himself and catch himself on the bus stop sign and me. "Sorry, 'bout that," he said. 

"You need someone to walk you home," I said, helping him stand. Bon stared deep into my eyes, dissecting my deepest secrets. Or at least, attempting to. I shrunk away from him a bit, unsure of where to look. 

"Why aren't you splashed?" he asked. I got him into a standing position and fixed my coat.

"I probably haven't had as much as you," I said. "You're carrying the bottle, after all." 

Bon turned his attention to the amber liquid and smiled, watching it slosh around the empty spaces. "Should be you but it's me who can hardly move..." he muttered to himself.

He giggled like it was a joke but I didn't get it. Figuring it was some bit between his friends I dismissed it and started on my way to my apartment. "I had a fun time, Bon," I said, getting his attention. "Thanks for taking my mind off...things." 

"Yeah, it's no problem," he said. "I'll call an' let ya' know about Ang's party, alright? He didn't really want one but Mal's insistin', ya' know..." Bon grinned like a little boy and I knew right then he also had a hand in planning this thing. I laughed and I wasn't sure why. Must have been the whiskey and lack of sleep. Normally I would have been shivering and freezing my ass off but instead I felt warm and flushed. And oddly happy. Bon stuck his hand in his pocket and tapped his heel to the ground. "Had a good time seein' ya'."

"So...this is goodbye then?"

"Yeah....guess so."

We stood there in the cold night, the city suspiciously quiet around us. Still such a moron at saying goodbye, I turned to go when I heard footsteps rush up behind me. Bon had set the bottle down and picked me up in a warm hug. With all the weight I had lost recently it wasn't hard and he probably could have snapped me right in half with how tight he was hugging me. I managed to get my arms free to hug him back and he set me down on the ground. He wasn't much taller than I was and I smiled to myself, remembering how much taller than him I was with my six inch dancing heels. We stayed hugging for a while, neither one of us wanting to be the first to pull away. I finally decided it would have to be me. 

"You're a good friend, Bon," I said, stepping back. He smiled down at me and ruffled my hair. 

"You too, Esther. Glad I met ya'." He looked behind him at the bottle he left lying on the sidewalk. "Better grab the booze before some scrounger makes off with it." He grabbed the bottle from the ground and took a quick drink. "I'll call ya'!"

"I'll answer!" I yelled back, waving. I finally started on the walk to my apartment, humming to myself the whole way.

**********

When my apartment came into view I wasn't expecting to see flashing blue and white lights bouncing off the side of the building. There were two police cars parked outside with a couple officers milling around. A few of my neighbors were out too; either talking to the police or to each other. The gate was wide open and Barney wasn't in the booth. He was standing outside huddled in his puffer coat when he saw me. "Esther!" He ran up to me. "You missed all the action!"

"What happened?" I asked, staring at the flashing police cars. The idea of a drug bust scared me shitless. What if that's what they were here for? Maybe the dealer got caught and ratted out all his clients. I sobered up real quick and wished I had stayed the night at Bon's.

"I fell asleep for five minutes and someone tried to break in," Barney said. "I woke up when the gate swung open and called the police but they didn't get here quick enough."

"Esther!" Mrs. Jones, a middle aged woman with messy brown hair in curlers, came running up to me, her expression one of relief and worry. I knew she was one of my neighbors but I wasn't exactly sure which part of the apartment she lived. Maybe downstairs? "Oh, Esther, thank God you're alright!" she said. 

"What's going on?" I asked, despite Barney already telling me. Mrs. Jones was crying. I felt a lot better knowing the police weren't here on account of drugs. But if one of my neighbors were hurt I'd feel awful all the same. "What happened, Mrs. Jones?"

"It was awful..." she said, dabbing at her tears with a tissue. "I heard pounding and smashing and I sat up in bed....I thought someone was breaking into my place! I was all alone, my husband is away on business!" she cried. I put my arm around her to help calm her down. "I grabbed the bat he keeps in our closet and searched all around the flat...he wasn't there. I relaxed but I still heard such awful noises! I think...." She looked up at me with concern.

"What do you think?" I asked. 

"I think....I think he was in your flat..."

My heart dropped into my stomach. I felt the sudden urge to vomit. My apartment had been broken into while I was away. Any happiness or joy I felt from my evening with Bon vanished completely when I remembered. 

Scout.

I tore away from Mrs. Jones and raced past the flashing police cars and crowd of people. An officer called for me and I ignored them. My heart stopped beating entirely and I couldn't breathe. "Scout!" I yelled as I ran up the stairs. Tears poured down my cheeks and I sobbed as I climbed. Adrenaline got me to my place where the door was wide open. "Scout!" My throat burned as I called for him. There was broken glass all over the floor and my things scattered about. I didn't have much to lose but everything I had meant a lot to me. I stepped over the mess of clothes and bags of food that were tossed to the floor in search of something more valuable. 

My violin case was knocked to the middle of the room and it was open. The violin was still there, looking as it did years ago. I stepped over it and glass crunched under my feet. "Scout!" I shook as I sobbed. There was no sign of my dog. There was no telling what the thieves did to him. If they took him, hurt him, or killed him. Maybe he ran off. Maybe he was out there loose on the streets, in danger of being taken or hit by a car. Maybe I'd find him dead in my apartment; the thieves leaving their mark on the crime. 

I felt violently sick. Scout was my best boy. I couldn't fathom the thought of anything...anything happening to him...

The drawer was open a tad. I took my shaking body over to it and knelt down to have a look. The box was gone. The box containing my heroin supplies was gone. I slammed the drawer closed in anger and clenched my fists as more hot tears flowed down my face. Those fucking people took my drugs. I spent a lot of money on that shit and they go and take it for free. I could just imagine the glee they felt, scoring such a prize. Almost like the looks on our faces when we broke into people's houses to steal....But I could worry about that later. I was more concerned about my dog. 

"Scout...." My voice was broken and cracked from screaming. His name came out as a hoarse whisper. I braced myself whenever I turned a corner or peered in a room. Expecting the worst every time. Would there be blood? Was it a clean job? Would he still be alive and need medical attention? What if he died in my arms? At least he would see me one last time...maybe he was holding out...waiting for me to come and find him before he passed. I bent over, wracked with sobs. I could hardly stand and dropped to my knees. "Scout...."

I crawled to my bed, dragging my limp body across the floor. I hadn't found any sign of Scout anywhere. The thieves must have taken him. Thinking he'd make a good bit of money if they sold him or just wanting a new pet. They'd abuse him, I just knew it. They'd hurt him and beat him and I'd never see him again. Or he ran out the door and was now a vulnerable life on the street. Either way he was gone. 

The only thing I had left of my dead mother was gone.

Aside from the box of heroin nothing else had been stolen. They left me my clothes and my work clothes. My violin was hardly touched, surprisingly. They could have sold it for quite a bit. I was thankful they didn't touch it. It still reminded me of my dad even if I didn't play it anymore. 

But there was still the money I kept hidden under my bed. 

Shaking and sniveling I reached under the bed to the lining where I kept it. If they took the money it was over. I had no job to replace it at the moment and rent was due before I could come back. I'd be given a two weeks notice on top of everything else happening. I couldn't buy food and I couldn't pay bills. Maybe I could ask Bon if I could stay with him. He'd say yes in an instant but then what? There was no way to buy heroin either and I wasn't bringing any to his place. But the heroin wasn't important right now. I'd give it up for Scout. I'd give the robbers anything they wanted if only to have my dog back. 

I felt around for my box of money when I felt something soft. And warm. I put a hand over my mouth when I heard a soft whining. The lining shifted around and a black nose touched my hand, sniffing. Fresh tears poured down my cheeks as my beautiful boy climbed out of the lining of my bed. He looked terrified but seemed to relax when he saw me. He wagged his tail and licked my face. I grabbed him and sobbed into his soft fur. My heart started racing and exhaustion washed over me as the adrenaline wore down. I shook like a leaf. My boy was okay. He didn't look hurt at all. He must have heard the robbers come in and hid under my bed. He whined as he licked my nose.

"You're okay," I sobbed. "You're okay..."

**********

I counted the money in the box. It was all still there. The thieves hadn't found anything under my bed. Scout and the money were safe. I sighed in relief, my tears finally drying. Scout's bed was also in tact, remaining untouched on the floor. He lay in it now, watching me gather my things and my thoughts. If I still had money it meant I didn't need to bother Bon about staying with him. I wasn't completely fucked. If I could just hold out a little longer until I got my job back, I could make it. 

With the heroin being gone, I couldn't afford to buy more. I'd have to go without. It worried me a little since the withdrawal symptoms had been getting a bit worse. They'd last the entire day after I shot up and they were stronger than I remember. I couldn't sleep and the circles under my eyes were worse than ever. I was sore all over. But I hadn't overdosed and that was enough for me to keep taking it. If I could keep my withdrawal symptoms under wraps until I could afford to buy more, no one would suspect a thing. Not even Bon, who noticed I wasn't myself lately. 

He noticed everything. 

An officer came up to my apartment a while ago. He saw me holding Scout and crying and asked if there was anything he could do. "Catch the fuckers who did this," was all I told him. 

"Is your dog okay?"

"He's perfect," I sobbed.

"Are you okay?"

I nodded. It was a lie. Another lie to add to my growing pile. Why did I fucking do this to myself?