Roxie's Big Adventure

Roxie’s Big Adventure
         Toys didn’t come to life. Lily knew that. Well, her brain did. Her heart, on the other hand, was convinced that her favorite stuffed dog, Roxie, was just as alive as her.
Roxie had been Lily’s best friend for as long as she could remember. One of Lily’s very first memories was of her walking through a toy store, through aisles and aisles of large, extravagant stuffed toys. Among all of the beautiful toys was a single small stuffed dog, its lack of fur made up for bb smooth, soft fabric. Despite its lack of ornaments, Lily loved the small dog that would come to be her best friend.
Maybe she was getting a bit old for this fantasy that Roxie was alive, like her friends insisted on telling her, but there was no convincing the thirteen year old that the small dog did not climb out of her bed every night and go on adventures of its own.
         That was what Lily thought about when she woke up that morning. She knew Roxie would be back by now, as she always was, and Lily couldn’t wait to hear about all the dog’s adventures. She knew the dog would have many stories to tell, as it was their first night on vacation to the big city. New York City, to be exact. Roxie would be able to tell Lily all the best places she just had to go to, if the dog decided to actually talk for once.
         Times Square, the Statue of Liberty, Central Park, the Empire State Building, and all the other exciting places Roxie would be able to tell Lily all about before Lily went to them herself. This was their second stop on their vacation, as the family had spent a couple nights in Boston before flying into New York City.
         The hotel room was creepily empty. That was the first thing Lily noticed when she looked around. Her extremities froze, blood ceasing to flow to her hands and feet. Where were her parents? Her logical side told her that her parents were probably down at one of the many guest services the hotel provided. But the part of her that was still a scared, young child refused to be convinced that something tragic had not happened. Lily choked on her heart, beating in her throat as she scanned the room, looking for any trace of her parents that would help her solve their mysterious disappearance.
There. There was a little yellow sticky note stuck to the headboard. On it, her mother’s messy scrawl read:
Down at laundry. Will be back soon.
~Mom & Dad 
That was one mystery solved.
But the next thing she noticed sent more than just a shiver of fear down Lily’s spine. The next thing she noticed caused her fingers and toes to grow icy. The next thing she noticed, as she pawed through the sheets, caused a rush of devastation so tangible that Lily could no longer breathe, and if there was anyone else in the room, they would have been able to touch the field of despair around her. 
Her treasured stuffed dog, her Roxie, was gone. Disappeared. Missing in action.
No. This couldn't be happening. Roxie always came back by morning. Something bad must have happened. Something terrible. Roxie could have been lost on the street, stuck in some building, lost on a bus, puppy-napped…
And on and on the “what if’s” went, getting worse with each one. Lily couldn't say how long she had sat there, creating outlandish worst-case scenarios. Her fear grew worse with every passing scenario turning the situation into one worse than it really was. Lily couldn't have sat there for more than five minutes but to her it felt like five hours, long enough for her to start growing roots form the places on her body that came in contact with the bed.
But when her parents entered to room, those roots ripped from their position holding her down as she leapt from her spot. Pins and needles shot up from the balls of her feet.
“Mom! Daddy! Roxie’s gone! She’s trapped somewhere, or lost, or stolen, or-” Lily suddenly stopped. Atop the armfuls of clothing from the trip to the city, sitting as comfortably as if she owned the place was the little stuffed dog.
“We took it-” Lily’s mother began.
“Her,” Lily corrected.
“…Her down to the washing machine because she was looking really grimy. She’s fine. Not trapped, not stolen.” Lily’s father completed the explanation before handing Roxie off to Lily, who clutched the dog as if it was her lifeline.
Reunited with her best friend once again, Lily began to think. Maybe, just maybe, Roxie was never alive. Maybe she didn't go on terrific journeys at night, only to return at the perfect moment. It was a possibility Lily had consider.
But that didn't mean Lily loved her any less.