Refuge

We are a warrior queen and a dragon and this world is not enough for us.

He patrols the borders of his kingdom. Outsiders think it looks more like a one acre backyard but for me it is my escape. He is my escape.

There are bows and arrows, swords and shields, lasers and lightsabres, and him by my side, breathing fire at anyone who tries to harm me. We fight battles in this kingdom, weaving between trees and taking cover behind gardens. I am wearing armour, I swear I am, even if nobody else can see it. I cannot stand up to the people at school but I can vanquish the wraiths of my imagination that only he and I know where to find.

The wind in my hair is my favourite freedom. He tips his head back and smiles at the sky like happiness is drawn there. For him, maybe it is. Not for me. For me, it is written across his face. For me, happiness is found here, with him.

The water tank is our castle, the concrete surrounding it the moat. Nothing can touch us. Not here.

He runs over soft fresh grass and I can almost see wings stretched above his back. The grass is not always greener on the other side. It is greenest here, where we stand together.

At school, the world is not the same. He is not there to protect me, not there to smile at me when I need it. I come home with tearstained eyes, swollen cheeks and shuddering shoulders.

He is there to put my pieces back together - not with a cape or a breath that produces fire. He is there to put my pieces back together - with a concerned look, a kiss on the cheek and a soft nuzzle of comfort.

Darkness is spreading across the sky like a can of paint spilt on a canvas. Night marks the ending of safety and the promise of tomorrow's troubles. But night is not yet here and dusk is assuring us that now is enough. Now is everything we need.

The daydreams fade. The faux fantasies fall away. I am sitting in my backyard, back against a water tank, feet resting on browning grass.

I am not a warrior. I have no armour, no weapons, no kingdoms to protect. There are no arrows aimed at me, only mean words, rude looks and deliberate ignorance. I am not a warrior, just a school girl wishing she was somebody else.

He is not a dragon. There is no fire here, no wings or sharpened claws. His only defence against the cruel of this world is a smile and a handshake. The only bandage he can offer me is his presence but it is all I need anyway. He is not a dragon, just a dog who looks after his human any way he knows how. Just my best friend.

My hands are stroking his flappy ears, my face buried in his soft fur, my arms wrapped around his neck. Tomorrow will arrive eventually but he will be here when I return. The book may be a sad one but the ending of every chapter is filled with light and laughter and love. The ending of every chapter is him and me, sitting in front of a sunset, watching my tears evaporate into the afternoon air.

This story is not a hopeless one. This story is about a candle burning brilliantly and relentlessly amidst a darkened place. This story is about him.

We are a girl and a dog and we are enough.