Memory Fades

By Stor-E-Phool

The sun sank slowly into Hawk Ridge, glowing a bright red against the darkening sky. The soft chirping of crickets uttered up out of the cattails by the fishing pond as Abigail sat, propped up by the drooping willow tree.

She wanted to let her mind rest by staring out onto the water, watching the water lilies float upon the surface, but thoughts kept nagging at the back of her mind. Megan. Jerome. Dead?

She just couldn't bear to---

"Hello? Dr. Fodderveld?"

I stopped typing and looked up from my computer. A portly woman with bright blonde hair and an angry expression on her face and her pampered poodle stood in the middle of her living room. Wonderful. Another customer.

"I don't know if you know this," the woman growled, "But I've been waiting here for a full thirty minutes."

I strapped on a salesman's smile. "I'm sorry for the wait, Ms. Taylor! Just finishing up some paperwork, then I will be right with you." At that, the woman harrumphed rudely and stomped back into the waiting room.

With a sigh I turned back to the computer screen.

---think about it. Her two friends had been alive just a day or two ago.

"...Can life really be so... fragile?" she asked herself, then drooped her head in sorrow.

'More like meaningless.' I thought, saving and minimizing Microsoft Word. I lifted myself from the old blue swivel chair and trudged into the waiting room.

"Okay, now that that's all done, what can I do for you and Lulu this evening?"

"My poor poopsie is sick again." Ms. Taylor replied as we made our way into the examination room, "She's been roaming around the house wallowing all day. Fix her, Doctor."

I held back an angry sigh. This woman had been wearing at my last nerve for the past three months with constant complaints about her poodle. I wondered why she even bothered.

I quickly looked Lulu over, trying to find something amiss. As usual... nothing found.

"Ma'am, I can't seem to find anything physically wrong," I said, removing my handling gloves and throwing them away and turning to owner and dog.

"You... you mean she's depressed or something?"

"Maybe. Listen, I have a breeder friend in Barkley who specializes in these cases. If you're seriously worried about Lulu's mental stability you can talk to her." I offered in a serious tone. Yes. All Lulu needed was a few puppies to change her attitude; not to mention that Judy would appreciate a pure-bred bitch to match her new pure-bred stud, Piercy.

'Rhia, you are so good at your job.' I thought to myself as I waved goodbye to Ms. Taylor as she and Lulu sauntered down the walk to their car, 'It's just too bad you hate it.'

I sank back into my swivel chair in front of my computer and brought back up Word. Ugh. It needed more zazz. Preferably PIZ-zazz. It was so boring. It needs... it needs--

My thoughts were interrupted by purring right next to my ear. I looked up. "Oh, hey sassy." I lifted her off of the desk and into my lap. "I don't know. Abigail's character seems too..."

"Meow?"

"Yeah, that. Pathetic." I laughed at myself. Talking to a cat. Maybe I was the pathetic one.

I sighed for the umpteenth time that day. Time for bed.

A/N: Maybe the end. Maybe not. I have another story I'm nursing right now, and since there aren't that many fans of this game writing fanfictions, this one is a story I'll go easy on. Review if you're interested in critique or more of the story(believe it or not there is one). If not, don't bother.