Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-24970526-20141111215232

Every night. Every single night since we have had him. That's exactly how long my dog has been sleeping on the foot of my bed. I have no idea why this happens. I have never called him up here, never told him to leave. It was an unspoken agreement between the two of us. It's been 13 years. The dog is as old as I am and we have grown up together. I know what happens to old dogs I know he's not exempt  from getting old just because I love him. We have always had some psychological connection between us and it has been getting weaker. It's harder for him to get up the stairs. He has more trouble jumping up on my bed at night. His eyes haunt my dreams and I know that one day they will just be a memory. Heath has evaded him his entire life. Being a sickly sort, we cared for him and gave him the TLC he needed. Besides these stunning facts, he is in particularly good health for a dog his age. That is up until a few days ago. On Sunday night he treaded dreamily into my room at around 11:00. This is half an hour past lights out and he was late. I don't know how, but he always comes into my room at roughly the same time every night. Since I'm already curled up in the corner like usual he heaves himself unto my bed and sinks into the blankets besides me, warming my back with the unnatural heat emanating from his body. I make mental note of this just in case it happens to occur again. Monday night passed by like normal, nothing surprising or unusual besides my dogs increasingly melancholy state. It is getting worse and my family is beginning to think him Ill. I refuse to believe this whim. My dog is healthy and cannot possibly be sick, he's still a puppy in my eyes. Tuesday comes rolling around and today my mum is sure my beloved pet is sick. He has to drag himself down stairs and out side, and has picked the space right in front of my door to get sick. When I came home from school he was waiting patiently by the front door for his afternoon walk. My mother said he was as energetic as ever as soon as I had stepped through the doorway to the home. It is now Wednesday. Wednesday October 24 at 12:17 in the morning. We have off of school for the rest of the week and my mother allowed us to stay awake till this hour, though I chose to turn off my lights at 11:45. My dog still has yet to trot up the stair well and find rest in my bed. I'm starting to worry so I swing my legs from under the covers and stand with new found energy. My door creaks slightly when opened but everyone in the house hold is still awake. The false wood planks in the hallway are freezing against my bare feet so I take large steps. When I reach the base of the carpeted stairs I go down a step to remove myself from the cold. I try and yell his name but for some reason or other my voice cracks, causing the sound to dissipate into silence. Next I clap my hands together, an echo travels around the house. Sound waves reverberate down the abandoned stairwell, ringing the silence through my ears. A movement. At the base of the stairs. Just a passing glimpse in my flimsy eyes. It is in that moment when the realization hits that a don't have my glasses. The world is foggy and blurred, as if painted by a toddler with water colors. The images bleed into each other and all I can do is attempt to rub the imperfections out of my irises with the backs of my hands. Futile attempts leave my green orbs watery and worse then before. The stirring continues to slowly crawl up the stairs. 15,14, 13, 12... What I believe to be my dog drags and whimpers as if in a horrible enigma of agony. The white mass of blurry fur is not moving naturally but I am not concerned. My eyes are staring to burn and I really have to go rinse them out. 10, 9, 8... The thing stops. I can't imagine it taking the form of my plush white brown dog. Time seems to stand still and the subtle noise of my parents tv is replaced by the ever disturbing static that plays in between the sonatas of sound. A coppery taste fills my mouth, as if I had bit my tongue. Though the hall is relatively light, it seems I am consumed by black. I let it waves rock me and pull me in, the static is my lullaby and the creature coming ever closer is my dream. No no... That seems to naïve to be reality. The creature was my nightmare. The pure shock still fear the was crawling toward me. Clarity suddenly comes, replacing the haze I have lived with my entire life with extreme HD that not even the most strong glasses could give me. I see it in full gear, hyper realistic illusion in the finest fill my mind, over stimulating my senses. It was my dog, but yet wasn't. Bones out of place, jagged ruff patched fur hangs, three inches longer then when I had lasts seen him. He looked like a washed up animal, feral and untamed. Not mine. His teeth had extended, but not naturally. They were long and torn, made out bone. Ripped from they're place and destined to find home in flesh. The eyes. When his eyes, ITS eyes, as I could no longer see this... This anomaly as my dog. The brother that I never had, growing up with me and shaping my childhood into something un ordinary and vibrant. They were stone cold, staring me in the soul. Not even in my orbs, but within me, causing utter shock. How could I possibly be afraid of the one thing that has been there every time I needed them. This thing jerking and spazzing on the beige carpet. Blisters were forming the the thin purple skin hanging from the mismatched bones. One popped and blood slashed on to the wall. 5, 4, 3, 2 .... It was on the stair in front of me when the good sense to run washed over me. The brief moment of clarity ripped away and left the world shaking and blurred in front of me. Confused and dazed from my excursion from reality I turned to run but the bone-teeth dug into my ankle, encasing my Achilles heel and warming my leg with dark red liquid. With unnatural strength he dragged me to the ground and a thud echoed through, the world shaking with increasing intensity. I was in my own personal earthquake, ready to tear apart and shatter. Why my parents had not yet emerged from their room to help with this affair evaded me, but I'm on my own for now. Slowly dripping down the stairs my body seemed to have joined the blood. What I was forced to believe was my dog released me and drew back two steps. Attempting to reach the safety of my parents, their warm embrace, I started my trek up the stairwell. I rolled on my stomach and just as I thought the creature had retreated into the shadows, the pressure of paws (or more like claws) appeared on my back. Strangely enough their was no pain. No searing hot jaw clenching feeling. Just numb. I'm almost there, crawling and reaching, scratching at the floor. None of my joints would move and I could feel a sickly sweet poison spreading through my veins, inflating them and eliminating all feeling. Caramel replacing the thick blood, flowing slower and almost stagnate in me. 4 inch nails that extrude from the rough feeling pads on the bottom of my pets feet are now sinking into my spine, through bone. Cracking under stress, you could hear a loud snap of protest from the bones under siege. Still no feeling, barely emotion, my body spasms and scuttles around, trying to refit the misplaced shared bones. The thing un clenches it claws from me and walks (more like falls) further up. A large growl mixed with a whimper erupts from the gaping hole where it's mouth should be. The noise shakes my world even more. I black out right when the teeth meet the flesh on my neck, about to pierce soft skin and blood. About to end me.

An ice glaze runs up my spinal chord and I intend to sit upright in my bed. I'm shaking and crying and almost on the verge of screaming so I fall and wrap myself in the covers, now letting out my pent up fear. Attempting to calm myself "it was just a dream just a dream not real I promise" mumbling yelling screaming. My parents barge in, smashing the white wooden door against the wall and chipping the paint. My father glances back but my mother continues forward, running to the bed and picking me up. I don't know how long we held each other, but an eternity past and my screaming finally stopped. The horrific images were still ingrained inside, displayed in my mind as a gigantic billboard to remind me to be afraid. That this is what happens. I can't forget it because the very memory has forever been placed on a pedestal for all to worship and fear, for me to fear. My parents leave me in my thoughts and return to their bedroom with quiet concerned expression plastered on my face. I had refused to tell them the dream. I didn't want to expose myself and lift the veil off their eyes, showing them horrify crucifixes cursed to my being. I have finally come to rest with my thoughts of the dream and am about to go to sleep when I realize my dog is not in my room. It is Wednesday. Wednesday October 24th at 12:16. Without my mind controlling my body, I  swing my legs from under the covers and stand with new found energy. My door creaks slightly when opened but everyone in the house hold is still awake. The false wood planks in the hallway are freezing against my bare feet so I take large steps. When I reach the base of the carpeted stairs I go down a step to remove myself from the cold. "Come here boy, come on. It's time to sleep!" 