They Killed My Guide Dog: A Blind Man's Vengeance

1: 1

The guide dog was leading me home when a man's startled yelp burst out of the living room.

Then something came flying, and shattered at my feet.

Buddy let out a low grunt and backed up two steps, pressing close against my leg.

Vivien Sullivan shouted, "You mangy dog, you scared Darrell Vance!"

I held on to Buddy's harness, my head turned to catch Darrell's shaken, complaining voice.

"It's all right, guide dogs are very gentle, he won't hurt anyone—"

"You're blind, and now your brain's broken too?"

Vivien cut me off, furious.

"I told you long ago that Darrell is afraid of dogs. From now on don't let it show up in front of him! Next time it won't just be a smack."

I knew why she was angry.

Not because of the dog. Because of me.

Because I'd come home early today and interrupted her and Darrell.

1

Back in my room, when I reached to take off Buddy's harness, my fingers met something warm and wet.

He'd just been struck on the head. He was bleeding badly.

"Buddy…"

I held him, helpless, with no idea what to do.

If I walked out there now, Vivien might really beat him to death just to vent.

Buddy was so good in my arms.

Trembling all over with pain, and still he didn't make a sound.

His warm tongue licked gently at my hand, as if he were the one comforting me.

The voices from outside drifted in, on and off.

"Viv, don't be angry, it's my fault for being such a coward."

"It's not your fault. It's just an old dog. If it got hurt, it got hurt."

"But what if it holds a grudge against me and bites me next time?"

Buddy would never bite. Vivien had said so herself, with her own mouth, the day she brought him to me.

The bedroom door was kicked open.

Cold air poured in, carrying a cloying sweetness.

"Charles Fox, from today on, Buddy is banned from the living room and all the common areas."

I lifted my head, my empty eye sockets turned toward where she stood.

"Buddy's hurt…"

Before I could finish, Darrell broke in.

"Viv, don't make things hard for your brother. Maybe I should just move back to the old estate."

"It's only that the old place is so empty. Living there alone, I really do get scared at night…"

That lit Vivien's temper.

"Charles, Darrell is so kind and so considerate, and all you do is bully him at every turn!"

"It's just a dog with a little scratched skin, and you won't let it go. What is it you actually want?"

I closed my eyes, the pain in my chest spreading deep.

She used to say Buddy was our child, that she loved him so much, so much.

Somewhere along the way, she'd started to hate that we existed at all.

Only when the noise outside finally died down did I feel my way up to look for medicine.

Without Buddy's help, I stumbled as I walked.

Someone had left a kettle of scalding water on the edge of the table.

I bumped it by accident, and the boiling water poured all over me, a searing pain drilling into my skin.

I bit down hard on my lip.

Once, afraid I'd hit myself, Vivien had padded every furniture edge in the house with bumper strips.

Knives, boiling water, anything dangerous, had never once been left where my hands could reach.

Vivien pulled the door open, her voice full of displeasure.

"Can't you stop moving around? You're disturbing Darrell's rest."

The Vivien who'd once watched over my every need didn't notice the red, swollen burn on my arm this time.

I didn't dare make another sound. I could only crawl back to my own bedroom, inch by inch.

Buddy was so good, lying quietly across my legs, letting out the faintest whimper.

I fumbled iodine onto Buddy and onto myself.

One man and one dog, we curled against each other and collapsed onto the bed.

Even five years blind, I still couldn't get used to the dark world.

Five years ago, late at night, a fire broke out. Vivien was trapped inside.

I ran in to save her without a second's hesitation.

My mother, frightened for me, ran in after us.

Vivien came out fine. My mother stayed in that fire forever.

And my eyes were burned blind by the smoke.

My mother's body wasn't even cold, wasn't even buried, before my father couldn't wait to bring Darrell and his mother home.

From then on my life felt like it had dropped into hell.

The two of them always waited until my father was out, then beat and kicked me.

My arms and back are covered with scars where they burned me with cigarette butts.

The worst time, they took my mother's memorial photo.

They forced me to crawl like a dog and eat pig slop, then threw my mother's photo into the cesspit.

"Dead people's things are the worst luck. That short-lived mother of yours belongs down in the muck."

That day, Vivien came storming in with a knife, eyes red, and took me back to this house.

Afraid I'd struggle to get by, she brought me Buddy, freshly finished with his training.

"Charlie, don't be scared."

"From now on Buddy will be your eyes, and so will I. We'll be with you our whole lives."

Turns out a whole life was only five years long.

The one who once stood between me and the storm had, with her own hands, handed the storm right back to me.