CW Class: Fear
When I was four and my mother took us and left my father for Roger, we lived on a farm in Upstate New York for the winter. While there we had a little white dog named (not very original) Fluffy. Fluffy was small, just about the size of a toy poodle. But Fluffy made up for her size by meanness. She would bite us kids whenever she got a chance to. If she couldn't get our skin, she gnawed on our clothing.
One day I was trying to cross the iced-over driveway and had made it to the middle when Fluffy charged me and started pulling on my pants leg while growling. I panicked because not only was I afraid she was going to bite me, I was also afraid of falling on the ice. I stood in the middle of the driveway and cried as the dog continued to chew on my jeans and snarl.
My brother decided to be a hero. He grabbed his sled and threw it and himself towards the ground in order to get to me as fast as he could to rescue me. He misjudged his throw and smacked his chin against the metal head of the sled. His mouth slammed shut and his teeth pierced his tongue straight through. His scream did what my cries had not... Fluffy headed for the hills.
My brother rolled around on the ground, blood pouring from his mouth, turning the white snow scarlet. He ended up with four stitches in his tongue. He got ice-cream. I got whipped. Fluffy got a bone.
I didn't cry when springtime rolled around and we left that flea-bitten dog on the farm.
One day I was trying to cross the iced-over driveway and had made it to the middle when Fluffy charged me and started pulling on my pants leg while growling. I panicked because not only was I afraid she was going to bite me, I was also afraid of falling on the ice. I stood in the middle of the driveway and cried as the dog continued to chew on my jeans and snarl.
My brother decided to be a hero. He grabbed his sled and threw it and himself towards the ground in order to get to me as fast as he could to rescue me. He misjudged his throw and smacked his chin against the metal head of the sled. His mouth slammed shut and his teeth pierced his tongue straight through. His scream did what my cries had not... Fluffy headed for the hills.
My brother rolled around on the ground, blood pouring from his mouth, turning the white snow scarlet. He ended up with four stitches in his tongue. He got ice-cream. I got whipped. Fluffy got a bone.
I didn't cry when springtime rolled around and we left that flea-bitten dog on the farm.