The policeman pulled his car alongside the darkened playground, driving past and parking,. Troublemakers needed to be redirected, and he was the one to do it. Leaning against the car, he waited for dusk to catch any potential vandals or drug-dealers.

Nothing. Ah, peace. He kept a firm hand around these parts.

But wait, there in the shadows. Movement. A girl walked through the gate, meandering slightly in his direction. In his direction? Why was she walking towards a cop car? Oh no, one of them. Multi-colored hair, too many body piercings. He knew their kind. Probably high on crack, or worse.

"Hi!" The girl had appeared in front of him without him even noticing. She waved a hand in front of his face expectantly. "Are you home, mister? I lost my dog. He ran off that way, and now he's all gone."

"Sorry...?"

"My dog, mister, my puppy. I want him back. Now, please." He looked at her, confused. Since when had a girl about 15 ordered a cop around?

"Name? Description? You got any info whatsoever, missy?"

"Oh, he doesn't have a name. My brother sometimes calls him Barnabas, but I think that sounds like banana, don't you? I don't call him anything at all. In fact, I'm not sure how old he is. I think his two-hundredy-twelve, but I don't think so either. He's got spots on his nose like the carpet, and he licks my elbow when he's hungry. Will you find him?"

The policeman paused. He'd never gotten such a strange description. It wasn't even really a description at all. "You sure you lost this... dog, girly?"

"Don't call me girly. You know who I am. I think your sister does too. I want my dog, please. He could be under your car, or he could be in the sky. Look, up! There he is!"

"Stars, so what? Oh, and a plane."

"Isn't that what I said? Dog, mister. Like a chicken, but no wings."

What was she doing out this late at night, anyway? He inquired.

"I told you already, looking for my dog. And isn't it such a pretty night? That tree right there looks like my dog. Maybe that's him. My sister's coming to meet me, after she visits your sister, and she says I need my dog by then or he can't come. He wants to come. If you help me, you'll get good dreams."

"I don't dream."

"YES YOU DO. EVERYONE DOES, THEY JUST DON'T KNOW IT. MY BROTHER DOESN'T LIKE PEOPLE WHO SAY THEY DON'T DREAM." She shouted this last, aimed at a point somewhere above the policeman's head. "You're dreaming right now. This is your life. And when it's over you can meet my sister. She's real sweet and she'll give you cookies if you come quietly. But don't take the cookies, shhh, she can't cook, and you'll break a tooth andthenyou'llbemissingoneforyournextdream." Her breath had run out.

The policeman blinked, thunderstruck. What the girl had said made sense, but... he shook his head to clear it. He was on duty. No need to get distracted by some crazy's ramblings.

"I'm not crazy." She'd... heard? "I'm very nice, mister. My dog just bit your toenail, except he's not there either. Sparkle." Then she giggled, a high-pitched noise that sounded like cotton candy mixed with rainbows.

There was something very wrong with this girl. And the policeman was determined to figure out what. "Where do you live?"

"Nowheres. With my brother, in a place that disappears when you think about it. Yup, it's gone now. But it'll be back. I want my dog, mister."

"You been taking any... foreign substances this evening, ma'am?"

"I'm not ma'am. I'm not crazy, either. But my crow says YOU are. I think my crow's right. And what's a foreign substances? Is that like chocolate cherries allamanda, or is it worse or better? My brother or sister, don't know which, likes that. That's how I know what it is."

Drugs. Definitely drugs. Brother or sister was a dealer? The policeman tallied the charges in his head. Down to the station for her.

"Ma'am, if I could, I'll ask you to get into my car. I'll bring you to a nice warm place to sleep, I promise. You'll be comfortable, and I'm not going to hurt you. Now please, step in the back seat.

"I'm not getting in your car! I know you. You'd be crazy to think so." She shrieked in glee. "But you already ARE! Like my bird says! Crazy crazy cockroach!" Her eyes got big and wide when the policeman's hand traveled to his waist, searching for the cuffs. For the first time, he noticed that her eyes were two different colors. Blue and green. Blue and green. Blue and green. Blue and green. Blue and green. Blue and green. Blue and green. Blue and green. Blue and green. Blueandgreenblueandgreenblueandgreen blueandgreenblueandgreenblueandgreenblueandgreen.

The edges of his vision swam, and flecks of prism danced in his eyes. Right, cuffs. He unclipped them and put them on his wrists. The girl unclipped his keys. Click, click. The cuffs were locked. He climbed in the back seat, and struggled to shut the door behind himself. The girl started the car, and drove away. Suddenly there was rain on the windows, and fog blurred his view outside. The car stopped, suddenly, long and short at the same time. The door gaped open, and he climbed out to look at the damage done to his vehicle. Smashed flat against a telephone pole.

The policeman saw a dark figure approaching him. Was it the girl? No, she was dead, crushed in the front seat. He looked. Front seat? There was no one there.

The figure approached more, walking towards him at an increasingly rapid pace.

"You're lucky. You would have been dead if you weren't buckled in. Who was your driver this evening? Were they intoxicated or using any foreign substances?"

The policeman didn't answer. He realized who it was, Buzz, a friend of his from the station. State trooper, a good man. He yelled Buzz's name, but the officer looked confused.

"I'm sorry sir, I don't know who you're talking to. Were you using any foreign substances this evening?" The policeman nodded his head, confused.

"Maybe you could explain this note to me? It was on the hood, and there's no signature."

You didn't help me find my dog.

-fin-