THE WEIGHT OF THE WORLD BY EMBER M. PERA & M. ELAN SMITH

The dog seemed to stare into my soul with those glassy eyes of hers. “Here you go!” my parents said, the dog already in my arms,  already my problem to bear. “Why does she look so sick?” I asked, looking to them for guidance. “Well, we always knew we would leave this dog to you, so whatever we did to it wouldn’t really have mattered in the end! It’s leaving our hands eventually, the dog's health is for you to deal with. It’s still alive right now, isn’t it?”

I sighed. While yes, she was alive now, unless she got help immediately, there would be no time left for me to get to know the dog. “That’s not the point,” I told them, distraught by the fate of that poor fool, shaking at the slightest breeze like a leaf hanging on to the tree long after its other companions had left. “Well, that’s for you to deal with now! We don’t have to worry! We know you can handle it, you’re very capable.” I shook my head, my knees shaking. Even though she couldn’t have weighed more than five or six pounds, it felt as if the weight of the world had been placed in my arms.

“I have to go deal with this.” I told the older pair, looking at them with disappointment. “Because you didn’t take the time to help her, it all falls to me now, even though I didn't even ask for this.”

Rushing to get the dog somewhere safer, I passed the bed my parents had been keeping it in. So filthy, so unclean, as if they had never given it or the animal a second thought after ‘it’s still there, it’s alright, because someone will help it after us.’ I searched around the house for something to ease the dog’s suffering, but all I found was empty jars and emptier shelves. Having made the rounds, and having found nothing, I returned to where my parents had been, only to see no one there. Not even a whisper. Not even a note, or a goodbye. I was truly alone.

I turned my attention back to the animal. “Guess it’s really just you and me now.” The dog seemed so scared, so helpless, which seemed to embody my state of mind perfectly. How could this have happened? How were we left here with so little? With not a single thought spared for what I would have to deal with.

I had wanted so much for myself. To be a musician, a teacher, a lawyer, a doctor, a parent, a sibling. But instead all I had was this crushing weight left in my arms without a single mention of how hard it would be on me. How would I be able to do anything now that I had this tormented being reliant on me, of all people?

I looked over this dog, truly taking into account everything about her. Even in such a state, cloudy eyes, red paws, broken tail, I couldn’t help the love I felt for her. I couldn’t believe my parents had let such a beautiful creature become so frail and neglected. What had they been thinking, not expending more effort into her? She hadn’t needed much then, food, water, a safe place to rest.

Now, there’s no end to the list. She's sick. Dying. I don’t think I could fully save her even if I tried…

But I will try. I am trying. Even though I didn’t ask for this, even though I hadn't wanted this, that doesn’t change that this is now my responsibility. I will see this dog to good health. As good of health as she can get, at least. I owe this poor life anything I can give. This shouldn’t all be on me, but it is. I won’t stop trying. Ever. It’s me and her, against everything.

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