The night settles in, crisp air wafts through my curtains and sting my lungs as I shallowly breathe in. The couch was lumpy as usual, and the blanket was barely thick enough to protect my skin from the soft rippling breeze. Autumn weather, being my favorite, always reminded me of when I was younger. Autumn meant my mother would want to dress me in puffy dresses and big floppy bows that bounced as I trotted along. Leaves crunching under my small shoes that were buckled all neatly. The cold would wrap itself around me and cause me to get sniffles that the nanny would cure with soup and a warm rag for my cold head.

When I was younger, maybe five, I would play with the small black puppy that lingered in the woods. I told my nanny, but she would