Pretty Little

written in 2019

The waves crashed and splashed on the cliff of a small sea-side town. There, citizens were either farmers or venders. The people all lived off of each other, and had no qualms about it. They mutually gave and took. Everyone respectively knew their place in society. Just as the water came and went, so did the days. It was practically heaven. The weather was never oppressive on either spectrum. It simply was. The clouds did cast a constant cover over the sun, but the towns people knew not of anything else. They preferred the cool crisp air that wavered with a heavy mist.

The trade mark of the town was the lowly farm west of the market. It sat on a bright green field of grass. Its appearance had mimicked its owner’s personality. It was slightly crooked, but strong. Dull brown logs covered the exterior. Townspeople were awed by how reservedly beautiful it was. Large bushes of lavender grew around its perimeter, and distracted the eye from the sore house itself. The bushes danced for your attention with the dainty day lilies. The most tranquil battle for attention anyone would’ve ever seen. 

Inside the farmhouse was left over chaos from decades before, as if the house was filled with material trauma from its owner. Glasses, bottles, plates, knives, forks, anything breakable had been shattered. Any sign of weakness was tested, and the subjects had always succumb to the pressure. Some said the old woman was mad. She was supposedly driven to insanity by her late husband. The absence of their love had left a massive hole in her heart. Others said she never loved him to begin with. She was forced into loving him. Something to do with time running thin on her fertility window. With her husband’s death, she had nothing to occupy her time with, nothing to channel any emotion into. She was a bundle of emotion. 

So the town called her ‘Actress’. She decorated her exterior with lavender, lilies and green grass.  Walking out, donned in her proudest outfit, Actress displayed poise, confidence, and sanity. She would sell her sheep’s wool, cow’s milk, and newly harvested potatoes. People bought her goods, and in exchange, would give her discounted prices on anything from food or plant seeds to feed for her lonely plow horse. Then Actress would sway her hips to a local song being played by the local fiddler. Occasionally she’d bring the corner of her lips to the heavens, but only to reminisce on the ‘good-ol-days’ as she called it. The days when her husband was still roaming the farm picking up all the weeds that grew. She’d saunder by the instrumentalist, refusing to tip his skillful playing, and Actress would venture into her discombobulated house.

One evening, Actress realized she had no salt to season her homegrown potatoes. Frantically, she hobbled down the stone streets to the door of the spice seller. Rasping the door frame, she huddled under the overhang that barred out the pouring down rain. Spice-man answered the door almost immediately. His eyes were blood shot, and his lips cracked like a dehydrated crop. Actress wondered when the last time he had slept was. She asked for a package of salt. Spice-man invited her in and explained he had been caring for three newborn puppies he found astray in the woods. 

Actress may have been cold, and occasionally ruthless, but she knew empathy. Spice-man barely had to convince her. She ended up walking out of the house with a bag filled with salt, and a small, speckled sheep dog. Sheppy, as Actress called her, was the most beautiful puppy of the liter. She had crystal blue eyes. The kind that hid their beauty until you were three feet away, scrambling to reorganize your thoughts. Actress had a momentary lapse. Her mask she wore had suddenly started to melt into her skin. Like it was becoming one with her true self. Just as she had started to feel again, the dog reminded her of how lonely she had been without the love of her husband. 

Actress took care of Sheppy. She made sure the pup had all the proper food, nutrition, and training. If you hadn’t looked at the dog’s history, you might imagine it was a pure bred. The dog was perfect inside and out. Something Actress could never understand. Actress would create strict regimens for the dog, never letting Sheppy stray from her routine. Sheppy grew up, tending and protecting the farm as if she were a large German Shepherd. 

Sheppy had an air about her. She walked as if she were supported by clouds. Her paws danced around cobblestone. Occasionally, Actress would open the gate and let Sheppy out to explore the town. The townspeople simply adored Sheppy. They’d always adopt a smile when she pranced around. People tended to pet the dog, feed her, and occasionally take her on road trips, leaving Actress to wonder what her dog had gotten into every time Sheppy wouldn’t arrive home on time. Sheppy returned, however, always staying loyal to Actress. 

Over a few years, Sheppy had made some friends of her own kind. Every morning when Sheppy was monitoring the plow horse, a few woodland friends would visit her at the fence; two small does. One, had a darker coat of hair just atop her dainty head. The other, was slightly smaller, coated in a dark color all over. The two does always wondered together. They always traveled to see Sheppy. The three of them had what became a very strong friendship. It was a mutual give and take, healthy and it became necessary for the three of them.

One day, Actress came home early. Her prized wool had sold out almost immediately. She walked through her broken, shattered kitchen, trying to remind herself to sweep up the glass. She called for Sheppy, and Sheppy never came. Walking out into her backyard she saw her mare plowing the dirt as usual. Where was Sheppy? Her prized dog sat at the corner of the farm, pawing at the fence. On further notice, Actress made out the shape of the two doe. It appeared to Actress that Sheppy was on the verge of jumping over. 

A jealous rage boiled over Actress’ face. Her perfect dog would not be muddied up by two savage woodland animals. Storming into her house, Actress grabbed a shot gun off the wall. Stomping outside, she fired three warning shots into the grey blue sky. The does retreated faster than the squirrels who raced up the trees. Sheppy pawed and scratched at the wooden fence, unfazed by the loud bang that echoed through the tree tops. Actress called, practically hollered, for Sheppy to return. It had surely startled the neighbors down the way. 

For a moment, Sheppy sat on her soft rump staring at the woods. It was as if she never wanted to be with Actress again. She refused to process the demand for her presence, however, like a child to its parents she still felt obligated to listen. Sheppy turned and slowly pranced back to her master. They scrambled into the house and Sheppy took her position on the scratched up davenport. Her head hung low as she listened to her master babble incoherent thoughts.

“I only want the best for you. Why do you hang around such loose animals? Why can’t you do what you’re told? Here wear this… the weather is getting cold.”

Sheppy felt her upper body being lifted in the air. She thrashed, not wanting to move from her tranquil state. Actress only held tighter and forced her beloved pup into a scratchy brown sweater. For hours Sheppy tried to remove the sweater, but nothing worked. She succumbed to her master’s wishes like the broken bottles and dishes. She gave up and laid next to a large bottle of spilled beer. Actress rambled on throughout the night about her being disappointed in Sheppy. As if all of Sheppy’s hard work was worthless. 

The next day, Sheppy lazily walked out to the corner of the lawn. Her bright blue eyes looked out to the dark midnight tree line ahead. She didn’t believe her friends would ever return. To her surprise, two brown doe rushed to the fence. 

“Jump the fence,” one advised. “you can’t listen to her.” 

“Hey, why are you wearing that sweater,” the other inquired.

Sheppy explained to the doe that she couldn’t leave. Her master had raised her, and for that she owed her master her life. Sheppy didn’t like it, but she felt that rebelling would upset a natural balance that had to stay intact.    The deer didn’t understand. They insisted Sheppy be happy and free. That Sheppy was too selfless when it came to Actress, who was more than selfish. 

Sheppy couldn’t decide what to do. She knew in her heart that she owed her master nothing. That she had convinced herself to come home every night after Actress opened the gates for a few hours. She chose to stick by this woman who couldn’t even clean her own house. She couldn’t even put in enough effort to make her home safe for Sheppy. Sheppy, after a long afternoon of thought decided to free herself. To experience the world without the restraints; without restrictions. 

Actress’ voice called from the back door. The doe slammed down the wooden fence in a panicked rush with their strong hooved limbs. Sheppy jumped what was now a pile of broken logs. Smashing and shattering echoed from the house. Sheppy was escaping her master. She was breaking her mold. Actress fumbled with the shotgun. Her arm aimed steadily at the two deer. She shot, hoping to kill off any chance of Sheppy leaving her. 

She missed. She took away any chance of freedom Sheppy wished to have as a bullet pierced through her tiny rib cage. All because she tried to build walls around the one thing that loved her; the one thing she had left to love.