『I'm Your Good Dog』
My older sister messaged me in a rush, just throwing a passcode at me and saying that there was a blind, vicious dog tied up in the new apartment she rented. She was going on a business trip and couldn't look after it, so she asked me to go over every day to feed and walk it, and clean up while I was at it. She repeatedly warned me never to get bitten. Entering the passcode, I opened the door. Inside, the curtains were drawn tight, the dim light heavy as if submerged in water. Sitting on the sofa was a woman. Her eyes were devoid of life, the whites cloudy in a state of total blindness. A thick rope bound her wrist, the other end hitched to the sofa's armrest. Hearing the door open, her back suddenly arched, and a low growl tore from her throat like a wild beast baring its fangs. "Get out." Her voice was hoarse and cracked, steeped in thick hostility. I froze. What dog? This was no dog. In an instant, a chill crept up my spine. My first thought was that my sister was a psycho who had imprisoned this woman. But since I was already here, I couldn't just leave her to her fate. Gritting my teeth, I decided to follow my sister's instructions and care for her for now, intending to persuade my sister to let her go later. The first few days were agonizing. Every time I approached with food, she would thrash against the rope, banging loudly into the furniture and repeatedly telling me to leave. Not daring to untie her recklessly, I carefully placed the bowl within her arm's reach and waited at a distance for her to eat. Once she finished, I cleared the dishes and did some basic cleaning. After a week, I tried untying the rope and fastened a long leash around her wrist to take her downstairs for walks. Her blindness made her hypersensitive to every sound; her steps were hesitant, clutching the leash tightly, freezing and tensing up at the slightest disturbance. Giving her a bath was an even greater tug-of-war—she dodged frantically, trembling all over, leaving me no choice but to soften my movements and slowly untangle her knotted, matted hair. Day by day, half a month slipped quietly by. Her hostility dissipated bit by bit. Hearing the lock turn, she no longer growled in vigilance. When I approached, she would sit quietly without struggling. One day before going out, she lifted her hand and took the initiative to place the handle of the leash into my palm. At that moment, an absurd sense of accomplishment welled up inside me. I felt like I had tamed this hostile, vicious "mad dog." The turning point came on this night. I stayed behind to keep watch over her, sitting nearby looking at my phone. In the dim light, she slowly approached. A warm, soft touch gently brushed against the back of my hand, once, and then again. She was licking my hand. I jerked my hand back, my heart pounding violently. This went way beyond any line, sending a shiver of dread down my spine. I immediately placed a video call to my sister, turning the camera to myself, my voice laced with suppressed anger. "Sis, what the hell is going on? This person you're keeping crossed the line—she just licked my hand." My sister on the other end didn't answer right away. Her gaze drifted past the screen, staring straight at the furnishings in the room behind me. The color drained from her face, followed by a long silence. Seconds later, her trembling voice came through the speaker: "Holy shit... That's not my dog. That old apartment—I sold it ages ago, didn't I tell you?" My mind went blank. I couldn't comprehend. "You used the old passcode and broke into someone else's house. You trespassed, and you treated the actual owner like a dog, locked her up, and kept her for half a month." My sister's voice wavered. "You're so screwed." The room was terrifyingly quiet. I slowly turned my head toward the blind woman beside me. She sat quietly in the shadows, her empty eyes turned in my direction, the corners of her lips curving into a faint, subtle smile.
As long as you don't leave me, anything is fine