It took me a while to find the strength to write this, but that's what this world is about, right?
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"Oh, how I despise this treacherous ride home-" I began to myself. I hate the cold seasons, and the depressing sheet of white in the sky eclipsed by a withered tree without leaves or life didn't make the scene any better.
It was the last day of school before winter break, finally, I won't have to climb this damn hill, walk a wannabe flat rock, go down the same freaking hill and go another block to get home for a decent while.
(This is actually how I get home from school)
The only thing that made this worse was the supreme weight of my backpack that I lugged on my back all day. Getting this thing away from me and laying down would be a Godsend for my poor spine and neck. And thinking about these complaints only exacerbated my irritation. I didn't want to talk much because the biting cold air would smack my teeth, causing a painful surge to travel about my head.
The only way to alleviate that pain was to open my mouth, cover my teeth with my lips and breathe calmly. But not too much, only enough for a thin, wispy puff of breath would come out. The worst part was over, the freaking climb. Now I had to just survive the long "straight" walk.
"What could make this worse?!" I groaned aloud. Then and there I realized that I had the ability to grant wishes, because it got worse.
The thing I hate the most, a viscous dog, appeared from stark nothingness and let out a loud roar of a bark.
That alone made me speed off, I've always had a fear of dogs. This one wasn't rabid, thank God, but it definitely wasn't friendly. I didn't even look back to see which direction the beast was coming from, I just started stomping away at the turf! "Shit! Fuck! Dammit!-" and about 3 other cuss words I knew just flew out of my mouth. I hope I can get away with that In my head, though, I was praying; first for forgiveness of my foul mouth, and then that I'd get out of this safely.
I attempted to ditch my backpack and get myself loose to hopefully increase the likelihood of me getting away. Which, after I think about it, is still unlikely.
There was no way that I could outrun this dog all the way home. Not even enough to lose him through the woods. I didn't have the stamina, and I'm no track runner, not by a long shot. Eventually I got one strap off and the dog was close enough to nip at my straps on the backpack. Stupidly, I didn't zip my bag all the way up and all of my books and pencils fell out. I maintained my balance, but threw away all of the speed I picked up. I halted right then and there, put both hands on my bag, and stuffed it in the dog's mouth, hoping it would keep his jaws away from any part of my body. If that thing clamped down on me, I'd be screwed.
I managed to get my right hand on a pencil and wave it in front of his face. He was snapping and continued to strike at my hand. I wanted to calm him down and make him play 'fetch!"
One teeny-weeny pencil wasn't enough. In one mighty swoop, I scooped up about 7 pencils with my fingertips, and waved them around, getting its attention. With a grunt I launched those things far away...To little avail because he just turned his head and saw them. Tail still wagging, I knew that was a bad sign. It was still excited and still snapped and jarred at me. I turned tail and ran again. My backpack was still heavy, so I rummaged for whatever. We had reached the downhill and I pulled out loose-papers. They weren't important, so I just tossed them down. Weirdly enough, the creature picked them up and ate them! "Good thing that wasn't my homework! Maybe you were just hungry."
Then it looked up at me with those beady eyes, it looked sad. Paws were down and face slumped down. Tail still wagging, it let out a slight whimper. "Now get on somewhere!" I yelled with a sudden burst of bravery.
I felt my shoulders go cold, and then I just picked up what was left of my death-stricken but still living body and tried to make the best of my winter break.
With a low, whispering, "Seriously!?" I trudged home, not even caring about my pencils.
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Based on a real location, near my house, and a real fear; dogs.
They don't like me. The only dogs that have ever liked me were my uncle's little LITTLE dog and one that I lived with a while back.
