Black Shadows

Black Shadows

A Chapter by Ashley.M.E

I had to write this for school... We had to choose an event that had changed our lives... enjoy


My petite palms slapped against the old-fashioned fading red brick. The bumpy, uneven patio continued to be my only leverage, the single substance in arms length that could support me, the only technique to get away. There was tugging, yanking, still no pain, other than my hair enduring being pulled from my skull. No voice, my ears turned off from the everyday sounds; furthermore I was convinced the razor-edged teeth along with its massive jaw was producing slapping sounds as they opened and closed, though I couldn’t hear the sounds.

Slim fingers pulled on the edges of raised brick as I tried to pull myself away. I held on to sureness that I could get out of his reach. The bulky chain should retain the beast back, correct? The theory of the chain breaking prevailed to be the only thought to come to me, other than to get away. He was already practically choking himself to get to my head, which had been why I was constantly was being yanked back.

In my condition, I discovered myself thinking fluently. Like clockwork, my mind kept winding. As soon as I could comprehend the situation, my right arm went above my neck. This was a helpful thing on account of later I found out most dogs go for the neck. If the dog’s massive jaw clamped down on my thin neck, I would have had less chance at pulling myself away. Instead, he bit at the right side of my skull in front of my ear, above as well as behind it; somehow, he missed my ear complete.

Get away, a clear vision, no flash backs of my life, I barley lived. I only had one thing on my side, adrenalin that blocked out everything, every bit of pain to help me concentrate. My left hand slapped the rough, hard, black pavement, freedom, seemed so close. Then the large half-breed’s front paw came down on my arm, its sharp claws dug into my hand as it slid it along with the rest of me back.

The teeth dug into my head, flesh, hair pulled. Its other front paw was scratching hard at my right hand trying to move it from my neck. Nothing worked; my mind drew a blank other then the thought of getting away. I tried to think, since pulling myself up would not work being my legs seemed numb.

I believed I was alone at this point. I wanted to live, my eyes darted around for someone, anyone, it had only been seconds since it started, where had they gone? I looked up toward the driveway. I was looking for my brother and my cousin. My head darted to where they used to be only seconds ago, though they were not there anymore. They were there right before I had fell, no pushed, when had they left?

I lifted my head as much as I could. There, I finally spotted them; their sneakers disappear behind the corner of the house. My left hand went up; I stretched as much as I could. I wanted to scream for them to come back, but did not. I kept my hand pointing in the direction they went as if hoping an invisible person would grab it and pull me up, no one did.

I wanted to scream for help, but I could not, I was alone, no one would hear now. My head being eaten a living meal for a dog that I have know this since it was a puppy. Though I could figure, I tasted better than the chicken or turkey bones by the garage. What have I done to make this dog hate me, attack me.

My mind flashed back to my home, my cousin had gotten new bike. My brother and I were begging our begging our mother to cross the street to his house to go see it. Her words were to go see his bike, come back, and not go into the back yard. It was too late to listen, foolish children. Pull myself up, I had to try one last time, but it was useless, my jeans being pinned down and legs being walked on.

My hand still grabbed brick after brick, it was no use, I could not stand, and I could hardly move, both my hands went over my neck as I let my head be pulled from side to side. I remember being pulled up, and my head hitting the brick under. The muddy grass that had soaked up all the snow only a week or so ago would have been better then hard brick. If only I had fallen a little closer to the garage and not the house, I would not be on the hard patio.

My eyes closed, but I was fully awake, how could I sleep, no, I was thinking. Why had we, I, and my older brother followed my cousin into the backyard? All he was doing was putting his bike away. Either way it was too late, all I could see in my mind was the back of my cousins head, he was a few months older than me and had copper skin, no a little lighter than that, but not tan. He had black, short hair with his hands on his Easter present as he walked up the hilled driveway.

My brother followed first, he was four years older than I was, taller and stronger. He was a little darker than my pale skin. He had light brown hair. He was possibly a head taller than I was, but that did not matter. At this point, all that mattered was that my last memory would be following the two to my death.

Why did I follow? Now I stood, right next to my brother, I should have realized as I found myself looking down at the snarling dog when we stopped walking. He wanted to attack me before I was in his reach, his thick chain, long, wrapped around the trunk of the only tree in the fenced in yard, It was all that kept him from reaching me then.

There we stood. My cousin came out of the garage and stood there on the black paved driveway. I turned and looked at him. Though I have no idea what I was going to do I say, “Hey, David, watch this.” My arms waving as I called for him, a smile was pasted on my face. It seemed to be such a nice spring day, the sun and light wind mixed perfectly creating an odd relaxing feeling.

My cousin, he was not looking at me, no he was looking next to me at my brother. My older brother Josh, who I was standing by for some reason, nudged me, or a nudge to him. To someone of my size I became unbalanced and fell over. He was the reason I was being attacked. Now in desperation I find myself blaming, someone is always to blame.

I almost stood, then, right after I fell. I cannot seem to remember my emotion unclearly, was I laughing or was I mad, I could hardly remember no it seemed so long ago. If I had only realized that was only a minute ago. Before I could stand, it started. The dog attacked me, and still was. Still I fight to get up. My eyes opened, the past was not going to help me, get Smoky off me, get the large black dog who you had helped rescue from the pound.

The large black dog that seemed to not want to stop, if it even realized what it was doing, I had to get him off; it was all I could think of doing. No one was going to help me. I was on my own this time. I knew at this moment it was true, not a nightmare, it was real, as much as my mother told me these things didn’t happen, it was true. Time to face my new fear, Something I thought could not happen at my age, death.

Movement, my arms still over my head, but my eyes spotted it, motion not made by my attacker or me. I looked up, keeping my arms over my head. I looked at the window; it was showing the kitchen that over looked the backyard I was trapped in. The window seemed so far away, but then my eyes like binoculars zoomed in on the image in the window. The image got closer and closer tell it was all I could see. My entire mind was focusing on the one spot but who was it?

There, my aunt, a small sign of relief filled me I was not alone. There she was, short hair a little under her large pump cheeks, the color of the hair was blond. She was an average weight person, maybe a little more, but that was not what caught my attention. Slowly, she moved her hands on a dishtowel, must have been washing the dishes. She was looking down at me, why was she not helping? There her dog was attacking me and she was taking her sweet time.

The struggle continued, the dog winning, I looked away from her, my eyes still open. Looking up at the only one in distance to help me and was not only made me feel more alone, frightened. I made myself stay calm I was still fully awake. My mind seemed to be playing tricks. I still could not believe an animal would attack me. I had always loved animals; I would never hurt an animal, why would one hurt me? I had a golden retriever, Max, of my own, a white and orange cat, Butterscotch.

I believed the world was good, and now I knew. Being attacked by something, an animal that I thought was just a fluffy pet, a creature with no sins. I knew the world was bad, that things were not what they seemed. Everything was covered, black, gray, and white. It was right in front of me; the lost, pain, hurt, but I missed it. Until now, I did not know the world was not as beautiful as childish eyes made me imagine.

Then in the midst of my thoughts a sigh of relief, my aunt, she stood there on the black driveway I have stared at so much in the past five minutes. "Sit down" She called in a cool stern voice, that simple. Her voices without panic, that simple, sit. If I had known that would work. I would not have been trying to fight my way up the hard brick. As if I wanted to feel like I was climbing a building. Sit?

She scooped me up and as she ran into the house, I caught a glimpse of my attacker. The beast, demon, but to me he was not a dog, not anymore. He sat there, his tail wagging, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he panted, His black eyes shining, innocent. Had he knew what he was doing? He had to. Staring at him chilled me to the bone. His black fur oddly made me believe black was the true sign of evil and corruption the thought of how black is a symbol for evil, devil, made him seem more terrifying.

My aunt sat me on the couch and grabbed the first towel she happened to see from the closet in the hall, white. She pushed it against my head, I could feel the pressure, and it burned a bit. Then again, why was I just sitting there looking up at her? I was still without much understanding of what had happened, and I was just sitting there bleeding.”

“Hold this there,” She ordered. I grabbed the towel and held it to the large wounds in my head. The she left, I did not know what she was doing, but I then heard her talking. The words she was saying were unclear, only later did I find out she called my uncle about what had happened. Why was not she calling the hospital, get an ambulance, get my mom, and find my brother and my cousin, your son. Alternatively, drive me to the hospital, herself.

After sitting there looking around at the pale blue walls in the living room I was sitting in. She lifted me back up and carried me across the street. I looked up at the sky as we crossed the street. It was a beautiful day. Then the two large trees covered most of the blue sky and there branches weaved around each other almost making the two almost leafless trees seemed to connect like one. My aunt stopped at the door and banged on the door quickly, oddly enough staying calm.

My mom opened the door and grabbed me; my brother and cousin were there, shaking. They had gone for help, though all they were able to say was that I was being attacked, and my brother crying out it was his entire fault. My mom seemed relieved, being that David and Josh had her panicking and believing I was dead.

Everyone seemed to have left, next thing I knew it was just my mom and me. She sat me on her lap and I just started up at her. Her hands were ripping through a phonebook. She looked over at me as she dialed the number. She removed the towel I was lightly holding to my head. She looked at it, stained red. She looked at the patches, holes, where hair and skin had been. My mom figured she was looking at skin. She was actually looking at bone, skull. Everyone thinks the skull is white. I could actually tell you, no my mother could tell you it looked mostly like skin, tan.

“Listen to me very carefully,” my mom began. “It’s important that you stay calm,” She informed me. I did not know why I had to stay calm, shaking up, but I was fine. I stayed calm through the whole attack, now the waiting. I was scared looking up at her I could tell she was too! She had hung up the phone and an ambulance was racing its way to our house.

I had one question and I wanted the answer. My eyes widened as I looked up at my mom. My dry mouth opened and I said quietly a little afraid of the answer, “Mom, I have one question,” My exact words at six years of age, the one question most cannot ask. “Am I going to die?” Those exact words in a calm whisper from a now frightened child.

She just shook her head, and then the door opened a man ran in. Usually they used a stretcher, but I was so small and every second counted. He picked me up out of my mother’s arms and ran me to the back of the white truck. He jumped into the back carefully and sat me on the bed in the middle of the floor.

My mom did not come, for some reason my aunt would not babysit, my older brother and my baby sister, Stephanie. My mom was stuck waiting for my dad as the ambulance pulled away to race me to the hospital, I was still alone, with strangers. My life was in the hands of the unknown.

I was strapped down, my feet, and waist. Someone’s hands lifted my head as another pare started to wrap up my head with white cotton material. There seemed to be so many people cramped into the back of the ambulance. They kept talking, but I could not catch any of it, thanks to the blaring of the sirens, the most uncomfortable ride of my life, bumpy and trapped, scared, and with strangers. A light in my eyes, blinding me, I was seeing perfectly, there was little reason for them to check and see if my eyes could follow the white gloved hand in front of me.

The hospital, my head forced to look up at the square lights and panels on the ceiling. Last, thing I thought I was going to see, the dim light and panels that made up the hall ceiling. They races me down the hall, then pulled me into a room. They made me sit up, taking off my new blue jeaned material jacket. The jacket was too long for my thin, short arms; the sleeves covered my hands most of the time. I believe this had protected my arms and hands from the dog’s claws.

The doctor sat the jacket in the only chair in the small rom. I could see the three princesses that were on the back of the jacket perfectly. The jacket was new, a gift from my grandmother. She had bought it for me from a Disney store, the exact names I did not know. I looked at Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, and Belle sown nicely to the material, you could hardly tell it had been worn when she was attacked, no blood or large holes in sight.

They wrapped up my hands as I lay there waiting. I had not noticed much, but the cuts that were on my hands must have been from his big fuzzy paws. I did not even notice my hands were bleeding, until they began to wrap them. This doctor came toward me with a pair of scissors in his hand, no way was I going to let an unknown man cut me, but it was not me he wanted to cut.

My new shirt, they had to put those strange suction cups to check my heart, pulse, ECT. I did not want them to cut off the shirt I had just gotten this shirt the day before, Easter. The pink shirt, Pokemon, Jiggly Puff, my favorite at that time was on the front of the shirt.

I wouldn’t let them, bleeding, hurting, and needing stitches, I couldn’t think of a good enough reason why I cared so much for a piece of clothing. It was just a shirt, but it was, after all, new and though my memory isn’t that great I don’t remember giving up or if someone had held me down long enough for him or her to cut off my precious shirt.

The wheels on the bed moved quickly, someone pushing me from behind. I found myself being taken quickly to one last room and then nothing. I woke up in a dark room, my mom was there, and as far as I could see, I was alive. I found myself in a small patents room, in a patents gown and an I.V., of water so I would not dehydrate, in my arm. My head was hurting now and I found myself having a hard time seeing out my right eye, but it did not matter. I was alive, all memories of the shirt they had cut off me had faded, it was not Important anymore, neither was the thought of blaming my brother for the attack. All guild and sadness fading when the one thing you truly want is granted, life.

The dog was put to sleep, but my fear still remanded. I believed the world was a beautiful wonderful place. A mosquito could have landed on my hand and I would have allowed it to drink my blood, believing it would not kill me. I knew it needed the blood to live and to my childish eyes, everything was good and everything deserved to live.

Now I was in fear of everything being bad, black shadows, the things that I did not know. The fact that death and pain were real and real living things caused them. I could not say this story is about angels, heroes, or anything of the sort. I do not think I told it to sound great or strong. However, at that age I managed to save myself, without a single tear I saved myself.

It is not about fighting a fear, I was not afraid of dogs until after. However, I used to be afraid of black dogs for a long time. The color of evil and the color of the one who first made me feel that I was not in control of my own future and life. When I was younger, u believed I could do anything. I believed I was in control and I felt I could do anything. I was invincible, now I knew how vulnerable I truly was.

If I had to say, what the event did for me. I would say it made me grow up and I am glad it happened. I might have grown up before my time, but many people around me, my age and older still has not seen this, the reality of it all. Of all the things around them, the truth in the world that the beauty clearly covers from those who are not looking where they are truly going.

This made me want to remember, remember everything in my life, I never had a flash back as if everyone else says they have had in the face of such danger. I want too, I

want to remember everything that has happened to me and live not just live, but actually do something. Live happily known that things are not always, what they seem and always being prepared for the unexpected.


It made me, untrusting a little, not a child who believed everything someone told them, not question everything instead of leaving it as is or following along, without a good reason why. Still after everything that happened, I kept the beauty of the world, the mystery, I found there was more to figure out more to believe. I want to uncover all the mysteries and unknown. There are shadows in everything and I want to find them.



© 2010 Ashley.M.E

Author's Note


I write like
L. Frank Baum

I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!

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Wow.... omg.... You told the memory very well, and.... zomfg! I don't know what to say.... except DAMN.... If that happened to me, i probably would have been weeping, bawling my eyes out... Wow... O_O

Posted 10 Years Ago

Very nice story. You know it well. I was riveted. I know everything can't be autobiographical, but this story needed to be told, right? This writing is superb:)

Posted 10 Years Ago

wow great use of imagry during this story srry this happenedtoyou when u were a kid but still great story

Posted 10 Years Ago

You're beautiful now, I would never be able to guess you were attacked by a dog. I'm glad you recovered, and I know you can contribute great things to the world because you're alive.

Posted 10 Years Ago

very good story, keep diving in and painting the picture.

Posted 10 Years Ago

Even with the conversational tone, it was very intense--good balance on that. I kept cringing at the descriptions!

Posted 10 Years Ago

Definitely a story meant to be told. First time I scrolled through to see the length, I thought it would take me hours, as most stories of this length do. But you dragged me in and I had it completed in a matter of minutes. It take true story-telling talent to turn out something like this, even though it was a personal experience. If any of your fictional work is near this, you're writing will definitely be something to read.

Posted 10 Years Ago

wow this is great it had fantastic imagry and it was unique i really enjoyed this peice and i look forward to reading more of your work

Posted 10 Years Ago

ummm... well... wow! its incredibal that you were able to clearly think I remember a few times when i have had to think clearly but it was nothing like that i also remember asking if i was going to die when i was 5 once again it was nothing like what you went through. in a way this story saddens me as it reminds me of my dog (a black and white cockaspaniel) yet at the same time the fact that you survived is a joy as it would be to anyone who knows or reads this story.

Posted 10 Years Ago

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14 Reviews
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Added on June 5, 2010
Last Updated on December 20, 2010
Tags: dog, attack, narrative




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