I flung myself onto the Italian leather couch, exhausted after my days work. Late afternoon winter light filtered through the windows, as thick and golden as honey. In my modern house in the hills, there isn’t much to do after homework. Except for exploring the woods. That could be fun.

I dashed off towards the loft, looking for some sweaters and mittens. As I rummaged through the closet, I came across an old picture. It showed me, my dark chocolate hair whipping across my face as I held Minty, my family’s old retriever. She died a few months after this picture. Old age. It still hadn’t stopped me from crying my eyes out. I finally come across what I was looking for- a beige jacket and baby pink mittens.  I shoved myself into them. I sled down the stairs, smack-bang into my waiting mother. After she finally regains her breath, she glares at me, her bright dark eyes drilling into mine. “Avra Cabello! When will you learn to be careful?! I’ve told you a million times not to sled down the stairs!” She continues on and on with her lecture, her  dark braid whipping across her newly boot stained work dress. Oops.

    I looked at the pine trees covered in frost. It took some convincing, but I finally got to go outside.I waded through the thick snow, heading towards the small, frozen pond on the hill. I wanted to see how the fish were doing. I squirmed my way between the trees, catching the occasional glimpse of a deer. I reflected on the last two months as I trudged up the hill. I had tried everything: Powerpoints, arguments, begging, bribing. But I still couldn’t get a puppy. Mom had been all like, “We’ll get one after Carmen is potty trained.” What does potty training have to do with adopting a dog? It wasn’t fair! I gritted my teeth as I hold on to handholds. The steepest part of the hill was to come. I couldn’t be distracted. The cold wind snapped around my exposed face as I struggled up the dangerously sloping hill. But I was rewarded when I finally made myself to the top.

The view was simply spectacular. The woods spread out below me, live a living evergreen, velvet rug. The lake off to the east was frozen over, its little islands cold and barren. To the west, more woods, and then my street.  To my south, the woods went on for a few more acres, and then eventually gave way for the town of Parsons. The uni stood strong and tall, it’s rambling stone walls bearing the fierce wind. Surrounding it were little storefronts, and beyond that, cozy little suburbs, and my school.  I walked closer and closer to the town, drawn towards it’s glowing light, only to come to an abrupt stop. The ponds icy waves lap around my jean, soaking my legs. I shuddered, and back out of the pool, only to trip over a rock. I brush off dirt as I stand up. Klutzy Avra, I scolded myself, What would Mother say? The fallen leaves rustle behind me as I skirted around the pond. I grabbed a fairly new piece of rope, and fastened it to my waist as I walk to the edge of the cliff.  Tying the rope securely to a sturdy pine, I leaped off the cliff.

    No, I didn’t die. I just went as far down as the rope allowed, and landed on a cave entrance. I trekked a little further into the cave, and found the pillows, old books, and the flashlight. I found the cave a week ago when I accidently fell off the cliff. The handhold had saved, and I curled up in the cave for hours. I had finally found an old piece of mountaineering rope in the corner, and had gotten out. The rope had snapped afterwards. But I visited it over and over, finally buying my own piece of mountaineering rope. I’d brought down old pillows, worn out books, a few flashlights, and an old, worn wool blanket. Sometimes, I would store away some granola bars, jerky,  and water cans in the little broken ice chest  that held the batteries. At any rate, the place was made well for camping. The cave entrance was covered with a rock when I wasn’t using it, making it nearly invisible. I curled in the corner, wrapping myself in a blanket, and grabbed a granola bar out of the chest. The stone floor and ceiling is never webbed with first. It’s big enough to hold two people, but small enough to be called cozy. I use the flashlight to hang off the stick I drove into the wall, and snuggled up with an old copy of Harry Potter.

     I finally got up when the light coming through a crack became dim. I straighten up the cave, and scoot aside the rock. I hauled myself to the top, and run all the way home. I pound on the front door, gasping and out of breath. Carmen opened the door, her head barely rising to my stomach. “Hi Avra!” she squealed, bouncing up and down. Even her tight black curls bounce.“Up you go, squirt,” as I scoop her up like ice cream. “You remember what Mommy told you about the door.” Ever since Carmen had started opening the door, she wouldn’t close it after her. It made the house super cold. I felt like a popsicle whenever she forgot to close the door.
“But I love opening it! Why can’t I?” she pouted.
“Squirt, if you open the door too much, you’ll let in a big, scary snow monster.” How else am I going to get her to stop?
“Noooo! No snow monster!” She dives out of my arms, and toddles to the bathroom. Why the bathroom, I don’t know. I run upstairs, into my room. It’s actually the loft, but it’s good enough. My bed was propped against the walls, its gold and salmon throw pillows glowing bright against the white comforter and pillows.. My desk and chair face the window, overlooking the lake. Book are put against the wall on shelves.  A huge salmon rug covers the rest of visual floor. I run into the adjoining bathroom, and take a long, hot shower. After I’m changed and ready for dinner, I take a deep breath. Maybe this night would be more successful than the others.
     It was successful. Carmen had gone to the bathroom by herself, meaning she was potty trained. So that’s why she ran to the bathroom. We could finally get a dog! I spent all evening studying dog breeds, finding a shelter close to us. I finally decided on a corgi. They were easy to take care of, and they were good with kids. They were also full of energy. That was my kind of dog! I went to bed that night full to the brim with excitement.
    A week later, we were in the old Subaru, driving to Hope Animal Shelter. I leaped out of the car the minute my dad parked, and scrambled on in. “Do you guys have corgis?” I said in one breath to the alarmed volunteer.
“One. She’s a puppy though. Would you like to see her?”
“Oh yes, please!” My family had wandered in, laughing at my antics. So what if I was excited? I practically skipped after the volunteer, eager to see the corgi. I spied her through the window. Her wiggly little body was dappled with cinnamon, black, and white. Her eyes glowed with life. As soon as the poor assistant opened the door, I ran in and scooped her up. She nosed around my elbow, determine to explore.
I liked that.
We completed the paperwork, adopted her, and piled into the van. The corgi dozed on my lap, letting Carmen rub her behind the ears.
When we were at home, and she was tucked away in a blanket, chewing on her new squeaky toy, we discussed names.
“Cupcake. Glitter. SPARKLES! Or we can call her Pink Fluffy Unicorn. P.F.U. for short!” Carmen insisted.
“Coffee, for sure.” My mother commanded.
“I think we should call her Avra.” my dad muttered. Leave it to Dad for the weird names. That’s how I got my name. It means breeze in Greek..
“Everyone stop! My dog. My choice.” I half shouted. I took a deep breath, and looked at the dog in my lap. “How do you feel about Cinnamon?”
She licked my hand, and fell asleep. I looked up. “That’s that.”
    When I came back from school, Cinnamon was still there, napping in my room. Good. I kissed my dad on the cheek. He was baking cinnamon-raisin rolls for his bakery. He loves to test his own recipes. “Hi Dad.”
“Mhm. Hello. Do your homework.:”
I did my homework at the kitchen table, pausing to take bites out of a fresh roll, and sips of milk.. When I finished, Cinnamon waddled down the stairs, and simply plopped herself onto my lap. Her face said “Walk? PLEASE?”
“Dad, can I take Cinnamon for a walk?”
“Yeah, go. Be careful.”
Once we were in the safety of the woods, I found a clearing and let her loose. She ran around in circles, her little bump of the tail wagging incessantly. I caught her, after five minutes of running, and attached the leash. We ran around the woods, running back to the clearing every time we went too far. It wasn’t a bad way to pass time. When the sun glowed at the horizon, and the moon rose, we walked calmly back to the house, Cinnamon tuckered out, and curled up in my arms. We ate our dinner, and went to bed, Cinnamon cuddled against me.
It was two weeks later. And we were bored. We had explored every nook and cranny of the woods. I had even showed her the cave. She had snuggled and cuddled the blanket. I had even put some doggy food in the box.  Nobody was at home.We were done with everything. And we were bored. An idea struck me like lightning. I took Cinnamon in my arms, holding her above me like a baby. “Cinnamon, dear, what do you say we go to the lake?”
Cinnamon gave one of her little doggy grins. as she struggled to lick my nose. I pulled her down enough so that she could.
    I grabbed the sled, and Cinnamon’s leash. We ran outside, laughing as I locked the door behind us. Once we were at the cave, I started to pack.. The blanket would have to be our beach towel. Two pillows: One for me, one for Cinnamon. The icebox, because you never know how much you have to eat. As an afterthought, I put in the flashlight. I package everything in the ice box, put the box onto the sled, and grab the rope. I shimmied down the hill, Cinnamon safely tucked under my arm. I tie her to the tree, and go back up for the sled. Once the sled and I are both safely down, Cinnamon and I walked around the woods, not really knowing where we were going. We smelled the breeze, which smelled like dirt (ew), and kept on going.
When the sun started to set, I turned around, but didn’t know where to go. Did we go north? South? East? Where’s the hill? I curled up on the ground scared and alone, Cinnamon barked at the darkness, sitting in my lap. Well, maybe not so alone. I hiked the way back to the cave, Cinnamon scrambling up into my arms. Let me tell you, carrying a sleepy dog, and a huge ice chest is HARD. I sweated bullets on the job. I finally gave up when the moon is high. I have no idea what to do, but I try my best to put up a campsite. I found a small place op in the trees that would be awesome for a treehouse. Lucky me, the platform for one is just sitting there. There must have been someone that chose to make it. But who? There was a family who lived close to here once before their house was demolished. Maybe that's where it came from. I tied the box securely in one corner of the platform, making sure it won’t fall. The cold wind nipped at my face. I lay down the blanket, and fluff up the pillow. I deposited Cinnamon gently on a pillow, making sure she’s covered with a blanket. My back tingled as I struggled to hang the flashlight from a twig. As a result, I get a hung flashlight, and many broken twigs. Lovely. I curled up under the blanket, on the scratchy wood. I grabbed a piece of jerky, and a can of water. and ate while Cinnamon snuffled in her sleep. The jerky isn’t bad, but it isn’t amazing either. The water had a slightly stale taste to it. Whatever. I’ll survive. I nudged Cinnamon awake, and gave her some doggy food and water. She fell right back asleep once she makes sure my arm is around her, and I’m lying on the floor. I watched the swinging flashlight, determined not to fall asleep. I thought of my parents. What are they doing right now? Carmen would be asleep. Mom and Dad would probably be talking over a show. Were they scared? Worried. Because I knew I was. I sniffled back a few tears, and buried myself in the pillow. Finally, I gave in to a deep, dreamless sleep.
When I blink myself awake, I expected to be in my bed, with Cinnamon on my chest, staring into my face. I didn’t get my first wish, but I did get my second. I scrambled up with a very undignified shriek. Cinnamon shuffled back, a little nervous. I let back a deep breath as everything crashes back. The search for the lake. Getting lost. Making a campsite. I immediately packed everything as I chow down a bar for breakfast. I jump down, taking the chest and Cinnamon with me. I grab the sled, put Cinnamon on her leash, and start walking again. The lake was south of the hill, and I’m assuming I went south. I hiked north, catching a glimpse of a rabbit. Snow begins to fall, big, fluffy flakes of it. I used the two pillows to make a little shelter in the icebox. I unclipped Cinnamon, swaddling her in the blanket, I placed her gently inside the shelter, letting her doze off while I pulled the sled to the hill. My back ached and spasmed as I tugged the sled over a hill. Some things looked a bit familiar. The fairy circle of oaks, now bare and shivering in the harsh winter breeze. The little pond in that hill over there. Maybe the cave is there. I could stay in it tonight, seeing as it would take all day just to get up there. Maybe if I was quick, I’d get home today…. Cinnamon gave a little snort in her blanket, snapping me from my thoughts. I tucked her in a little more securely as I approached the crest of the hill.
   When I approach a good hill for sledding, I always get a little tingle in my bones. When I saw the way down, I got my little tingle. The snowy ground would be great for sledding down. Plus, it would save more time! Before I sled, I woke up Cinnamon to get some food for us. I let her do her business behind a tree while, I pull out 2 cans of water, dog food, jerky, and a honey-oat granola bar, I watched Cinnamon devour her food as I nibbled on mine. The warm winter sunlight plays on my face causing me to glow a bit. Then, I sighed and brushed off my crumbs. Might as well sled right now, when the sun is high.
Once Cinnamon is back in her little shelter, I hammered two holes in the icebox using a heavy rock and a stick. Then, I close the lid down on a whimpering Cinnamon. Steeled myself up. C’mon Avra, you can do this. Just another sledding trip. You’ll make it home to Mom, Dad, and Carmen. Wow, this is a steep hill. Maybe you shouldn’t do it. DO IT! I boarded the sled, the icebox tied onto my lap. I took a deep breath and pushed off, hurtling down the hill. The wind ripped at my face, making me bare my teeth due to the G-Force. Cinnamon barks in her box, but the noise is lost in the screaming air. I did my best to maneuver, swerving past trees, and causing the sled to jump over rocks, But then, it happened. The sled flipped over a rock. It pitched Cinnamon and I overboard. The ice box holding my corgi slammed into a tree at the foot of the hill, slamming my head into the tree as well. Blood starts to trickle in a slow, steady stream down my forehead as I struggled to open the icebox. Once it finally gives way, Cinnamon wriggles out of the box, lapping at my face. I held Cinnamon against my cheek as I pass out, drifting into an unknown world of red galaxies.
When I wake up, the sun was setting beneath the cave, washing everything in a rose gold light. Cinnamon whimpered as she tugged me through the woods. I realized what she did.  She managed to pull me and the ice box to the cliff. She passed out from exhaustion as I snuggle her in the shelter. I climb up the hill, into the dark safety of the cave. I crawled to the old white rug I salvaged from my mom’s room. There, I fed Cinnamon and I our dinner, and passed out for day two, under a blanket, Cinnamon sleeping on my head. I wake up to the soft tapping of a fist on the cave. I dragged myself out of bed, Cinnamon running and jumping around my ankles. I open the rock to find the most unlikely visitor. Carmen stood there, her face all scratched up as she walked inside. “Carmen? What are you doing in here?”
“I saw the rope, followed you down and now I’m sitting on your pillow. Mom says to come home now.”
“Okay, let's get on up.” I pick her up, and get to the edge of the woods. I take a deep breath as I release Cinnamon to the house. Seeing Cinnamon bark and jump on the door makes up for my horrible two days in the woods. Carmen scrambled all the way to the house, screaming as she kicked the door. Mom flung it open, her braid a mess, wearing pajamas, and binge eating a tub of ginger snaps. “Carmen! What’s wrong?!”
She saw me, in all my dirty, muddy glory, and bursted into tears. I’ve seen the Niagara Falls, and even that couldn’t compare to my mom. She scooped me up in a bear hug that leaves me gasping for air, and made me sit on the couch. Cinnamon nuzzled her way into my arms, and stays there. “Mom, are you okay?”
“No, I’m not! You left for two days, and we had no idea where you were! Your father should be at the bakery- not the news office, reporting your absence!” she screamed halfheartedly.
“I love you too.”
“Explain what happened. Now.”
Carmen gave me her peanut butter jelly sandwich, and a cup of  mint tea while I recounted my story. Mom hissed and muttered under her breath at all the right places. When I told her on how I hit the tree, she said the words she’s been saying under her breath out loud. I’m sorry to say that they were things you really shouldn’t say in front of a two year old like Carmen. I had to cover Carmen’s ears as she patted Cinnamon. When I finished my story, she launched into a huge monologue that goes on for an hour. Warnings that she’s going to take away my house keys, hire a nanny, ground me until Armageddon. Hug at the end. Sending me up to my room to take a shower. I caught a glimpse of myself as I head upstairs. Holy Apricots. My nose is all tomato red, and my lips are as blue as the lake. Once I take a shower and get into my plaid jammies, I looked at my face again. Still the same, but it’s lost all the mud, showing off my pink skin brighter than ever. I took a nap, glad to be back in my own house. I can’t stop shivering though.
When I wake up, I sighed at Carmen sitting on my feet, a cup of tea and toast in her hand. Breakfast in bed. ”You didn’t have to do this for me Carmi.”
“But I like doing it.” I let her feed me a cup of tea, and a bit of toast as Cinnamon glares at Carmen, desperate for food. “Carmi, can you give Cinnamon here her food?”
“Already did.” Cinnamon barks at Carmen, begging for more food. I hobble downstairs, get her the food, and give it to Cinnamon. She settles down, and finally eats. It’s a calm morning, and my temperature is up, according to Carmen. Mom half shoves the thermometer into my mouth,  and took it out with a long sigh. “Fever for you, Avra.”
Now I have to stay in my bed all day, for the next week, until I’m better. The week passed slowly enough, with plenty of new things. A stuffed animal which Cinnamon immediately tore up. New clothes. Much more food around. Mom explains that Carmen though it was her fault, all because she opened the door, and let a snow monster in, who kidnapped me. “On the first day, I didn’t believe it, but on the second day, I was desperate for any clue.” Mom recounts. She let me go to school the next day, and I glanced at the gates. It seemed so long ago when I last walked through these iron gates. Cinnamon barked at me from the car, like GET ON WITH IT WOMAN! I ran into the school, hopeful for a new start.