Chapter XXIII: White darkness
Aran still had not said a word since his bath. His caregiver decided that some quiet time might do him good and brought him to the playroom. She rummaged through one of the toy boxes and produced the sketchbook and the canister of colored chalk, encouraging Aran do draw a picture.
Purging his negative emotions by putting them on paper had worked before, and Jennifer trusted that the wolf could do this again. Even though the picture he had drawn showed neither a tree, nor a house, nor a smiling sun, the collie knew that drawing these images might prove helpful for her charge.
With another encouragement and the promise that she would check up on him soon, Jennifer left the playroom. Alone with his thoughts, the wolf looked at the pencils in the canister. Like the previous time, he was not planning to use many different colors. He took the black pencil out and put a bright red colored one next to the sketchbook. Something told him that he was going to need at least one color for accents this time.
Aran let the pencil meet the paper, again clueless of what he should draw. However, like the day before, his mind took over and showed him what his artwork was going to look like. The images were more whimsical than the vision he had seen the day before, but the message was clearer.
The wolf remembered bits and pieces of the time he spent in middle school. A few good memories, like some mischievous stunts he had pulled, but the images soon grew dark. Joy was traded for sadness and peace exchanged for anger.
His attempts to resist these memories were futile as scenes and flashes of how he used to bully Gina invaded his mind. Suddenly, something extraordinary happened. Aran was slipping into an anxiety attack, but his hand was drawing. Guided by his subconscious, the wolf depicted the visions that were playing behind his eyes.
Jennifer, being a dog of her word, came to check on her charge after a while. She had brought him a puppy bottle of lemonade and some cookies. While the collie was usually calm and collected, she almost dropped what she was carrying when she noticed what her charge had been doing.
She glanced at the picture, an image she did not really understand, then looked at the black wolf. He was tensed up, trembling, his eyes closed, tail twitching and the fur in his neck standing up straight. The wolf had been drawing and the pencil was even still touching the paper, but his lack of movement made Jennifer conclude that something was seriously wrong.
The collie put down the bottle and the platter of cookies near the door, then hurried back to her charge. She dropped to her knees and gently embraced the frightened wolf, softly petting his back and telling him that everything would be alright. Slowly, the wolf calmed down and returned to a less tense state. Without making eye contact, Jennifer broke the silence.
"Do you want to tell me something about your drawing, little one?"
Aran looked up at his caregiver with an expression of defeat in his eyes.
"I want to leave, Jennifer. Please, let me return to the real world," he begged.
"Pup, you won't have the antidote for your withdrawal out there," she tried to explain.
"I won't need that, as long as I can get my hands on ursaurine," the wolf spit back.
"What for?" the collie replied with equal agitation, letting go of her charge. "You only started taking steroids so you could become strong enough to beat up your own father one day. Is that what you want? Revenge? Little one, you'll be just like him if you'd do that!"
The wolf wanted to reply, but could not find adequate words. Jennifer went back to the living room, leaving Aran on his own again. He noticed the bottle and cookies his caregiver had brought him. After chewing down the cookies, he grabbed the puppy bottle and started drinking.
In the meantime, he reviewed the picture he had drawn and decided that it indeed needed some accents in red. Although Aran was satisfied with the quality of the picture, he still thought something was amiss, and he was sure it had to do something with the color. It should have been drawn with charcoal, not black chalk.
"Jennifer? I need your help!" he called out, then realized she probably would not concede his request if he did not phrase his question politely. "Could you come to me, please?"
A minute or two passed before the collie slowly entered the playroom.
"I don't want to be like this anymore."
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Did you see what I just drew?" he countered, holding up the picture for Jennifer to see.
It was a drawing of himself, sitting in his crib, leaning against the bars of the side. Behind him was a monstrous image of a fiery orange fox. Its eyeballs were entirely red, and so was the outline of the whole figure. Lastly, the fox was shrouded in an aura of black, smoky fog.
The figure looked like it was going to devour Aran, and his face showed pure terror. It was as if he had pictured Gina tormenting him, instead of the other way around, how it had been during middle school. Jennifer looked at the picture, then back at the face of her charge, and saw that the wolf was struck by what he had drawn as well.
"I don't want to follow in my father's pawsteps. I've hurt her so many times, and I can't take it back. I never stopped when she asked me to... just like my dad whenever he beat me up. I used to think that I was a better person than he is, but instead, I'm just another link in the Chain."
The collie remained silent.
"You said that I'd become like him if I took revenge. I-I guess, you might be right."
She nodded.
"I've said it before, pup. There is only one solution, one key to find closure, and, ultimately, peace."
"What is it? Please, I need to know!" he solicited.
"It's forgiveness, little one. I understand that it might be the hardest thing you'll ever have to do, but you won't find peace if you cannot forgive your father. You'll grow bitter and it'll always keep some joy away from you for the rest of your life."
Aran said nothing and stared at his paws.
"No need to be sad, wolfie. Someone will come to help you learn how to forgive."
"When?" he asked eagerly, looking back up.
"Soon. Don't worry, I won't literally involve your father."
The wolf let out a sigh of relief.
"Now, how about a hug?" Jennifer offered.
"You're not mad at me anymore?"
"I wasn't, little one. I just told you what you needed to hear," she replied, embracing her charge.
Aran returned the gesture and hugged his caregiver. For the first time since his 'abduction', he felt like things were getting better.