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your fault Tara. I don't blame you and you
shouldn't blame yourself. I was stupid enough to walk home alone, at night. I
was stupid enough to go down an unlit street. This is my fault, and I know
it."
    "Melanie,
no!"
    This
came from the front door, which her mom had silently opened behind them. She
rushed out as the girls stood up and grabbed Melanie by the shoulders.
    "You
cannot blame yourself, honey," she said, looking straight into Melanie's
eyes. "The only person to blame is the monster that attacked you. Please, please, do not weigh yourself down with guilt. This is not your fault."
    Elaine
hugged her tight as Melanie tried hard not to start crying again. Her mom held
her at arm’s length, looked at her hard, and released her. Then she went
solemnly back into the house.
    "She's
right, you know," Tara said after the front door closed softly. "The
real person to blame is that creep who tried to rape you."
    "I
know. But it's hard to not blame myself when I had so many reservations
about going down that street in the first place."
    They
sat back down on the step and stared at the sky, both deep in thought. After
several minutes, Tara broke the silence.
    "Well,
thank God for that dog. I wonder if we can find its owner and send them a thank
you gift of some sort."
    "I
don't know, Tara. I'm starting to believe I imagined him. No one else saw him,
and the police asked around and not one person on that street owns a dog like
that."
    "Well,
maybe it was a stray. I don't think you imagined it, though. I mean, if it
wasn't real, who or what got that beast off of you? I can't imagine him just
deciding to stop and leave, know what I mean?"
    "Yeah,
I agree. It had to be real. It had to be, right?"
    "Yes,
definitely."
    They
sat in silence for several heartbeats, until Tara's stomach growled loudly.
They both burst into laughter and decided to get up and go inside for some
lunch.
    Tara
stayed all afternoon and had dinner with them, too. It was a good day, and no
one brought up the attack again. They all just relaxed and enjoyed each other’s
company.
    After
Tara went home, Melanie took a long, hot shower.  The water felt like hot
needles poking her all over, and she scrubbed until her skin was red and
blotchy. She stayed under the spray until the water cooled and forced her out.
Her body still felt dirty. She didn't know if she would ever feel clean again.
    She
went to bed early, feeling exhausted, and fell asleep almost instantly. When
she dreamed, she was back on that dark street.
    Her steps were slow, her ears listening for a rattling in
the bushes or the snap of a twig. Suddenly Melanie heard a pattering of feet
behind her. She turned quickly and saw something running towards her. It was
the dog, big and black and unimaginably fast. Before she could make the
decision to run, it stopped and sat on its haunches about five feet in front of
her. Its big pink tongue lolled out of its mouth in a pant, and it tilted its
head to the side inquisitively.
    Suddenly, Melanie realized she wasn't scared anymore. She
held her hand out, palm up, and took a tentative step forward. The dog's tongue
disappeared back into its mouth and it tilted its head to the other side.
Melanie took another step forward, and still it didn't move. Four more
painfully slow steps brought her within reach of its mouth. She held perfectly
still, hand outstretched, and waited for the dog to make the first move.
    The dog slowly stretched its neck forward and sniffed her
fingertips. Then it tilted its head and rubbed its forehead and ear into her
palm, as if begging for a scratch. Melanie felt instantly at ease. She pet the
dog on its head and face, then gave it a scratch behind the ears. It suddenly
stood up, and she backed up with a start. It was huge! The dog's head reached
above her belly button. It stared at her now, with those dark solemn eyes, and
a feeling of calm settled over her once again. She saw something in those eyes,
something trustworthy.