Linda Of Arc (The Arc Saga, Book 1) - Rewriting/Editing

Chapter 3: Waiting For A Miracle

I flipped a page in my diary. My eyes stayed on the blank page before I shifted to the window. Sitting on the window bench, the sun pours through my suburban neighborhood. A burst of water arose on the grass near a house. Kids ran around while being rained on by the water sprinklers.

I returned my gaze to my diary. There was nothing left to say at this point. I closed the diary and threw it on my bed. After landing at the edge, it slowly slipped down the covers and fell flat on the floor. I groaned and had to pick it up to place it on my desk.

I walked toward the window bench to bury my face in my knees. My legs press my chest when hugging myself. I cannot tell Dad. If I did, I don't want to make him upset. He already has enough to worry about what Mom left behind.

The paws of a dog attained my knees. "Hey, you!" Ritchie wagged his tail when I rubbed his yellowish head. I scratched his furry neck as his tongue stuck out, breathing rapidly. His breath hit my face, having a meaty scent.

"Linda!"

I flinched at the sharp sound of my name. My legs wobbled once I rose to my feet. The adrenaline rush poured through me, my pacing heart pounding within my chest. I touched my chest to take deep breaths to calm my tense heart.

Grandma Chioma peeked through my door, creaking it open to see her face. Her eyebrows scrunched when her nose sniffed something in the air I couldn't smell. "Let that dog loose, or else I will send his Retriever behind back to the compound," she threatened sharply. "I don't want him smelling like outside in this house. Oh, and take out the trash on your way out!"

Thank you, Grandma Chioma, for scaring the shit out of me.

Ritchie followed me from behind as I carried a black trash bag on my back. I could sense his eyes on me, even though I didn't turn around to look. The wheel-vented trash can stood in front of me near the mailbox. While carrying the trash bag, the water bottles and metal food cans put light pressure on my spine, but the weight was not heavy enough to tire my arms. I placed the trash bag inside after I opened the can lid.

Ritchie's paws brushed against my legs, whimpering for my attention. I was about to comfort him until he ran off. On the grass, he rolled a tennis ball on his nose. He slowly came up to me and stuck his tongue out, smiling.

I smiled at him, grabbing the ball in my hand. "You wanna play? Ritchie, go catch it!"

Throwing the ball drew his attention, and he pursued it like it was meat. Kids were running in the streets as I observed the neighborhood. One man carries his daughter on his back, running together through showering water. I looked closely to see the same kids from the window. They were wearing swimming costumes, joining the Dad and child in fun. As other children ran on the grass, a mother shouted at her son not to get wet. It was too late when his shorts got soaked.

Ritchie lunged toward my stomach to my eventual fall. He spat out the ball once his saliva caught onto it. I scrunched my eyes at him as the ball fell on my neck. He slobbers me with licks while pinning me down. I laughed, tears spilling out of my eyes. His claws pressed softly on my stomach, resting on my skin. I gently pushed Ritchie to the side. He lay on his back on the grass, sticking his stomach out. His organs jiggled through that thick yellowish fur as I rubbed his belly.

"Honey!"

I turned to see Dad in a gray short-sleeved shirt and black sweatshorts. He beams a big smile, standing in his power pose with his hands on his hips. Ritchie rolled his body upward and landed on his feet. His paws were on Dad's legs, leaping to get a good look at his face. Dad caressed his fur, causing Ritchie to stick his tongue out widely.

Mia came holding a leash and strapped it on Ritchie's neck, tightening it. He steps down on Dad's legs, wiggling his tail. Mia grabbed the leash, pulling Ritchie to walk.