The Bite

*My eyes snap open the second the alarm goes off, already I can see the calm outside, not even the wind is showing its face tonight and yet every drop of my blood is pulsing like waves crashing against my skin as if it is trying to escape. I’m ready for this. It has to be done.

Outside I feel like I’m sneaking past my mothers bed to grab the odd fag from the nightstand, my hands usually getting just within reach before a snore would send me straight back to bed. Heel, toe, heel, toe I can now see the dark eyes of the house peering down on me, is it judging me or them? Glass reflecting light between the wheels of a small bike catches my eye and for a second I almost loose my nerve. I’ve walked past this garden every night with Stanford, my brown eyed staffie watching the toys and mess grow and change. I close my eyes, picturing her scars and remind myself why I’ve got to take their dog.
*There he is again, the kind guy from next door he is always walking his little dog down here, making sure he has a peep at Bernie. He probably get’s to see Bernie more than me, daddy always says he’s not my toy.
I don’t like the way daddy and his friends play with their dogs, Bernie is always bleeding, every time he gets back. I want to make it better like my horse, all I have to do is put water on my horse and his wounds get better, why won’t he let me fix Bernie too?  Maybe mr kind guy will let me play with Bernie too.
*Week after week Dom and his dog had walked past Danny Crocker’s house, watching with pain in his chest as the dog chained up outside collected scar after scar. Dom had begged for a dog for as long as he could remember, his mother had always told him he’d have no idea how to care for a dog, a fag burning away at her callas hands as she lectured him on why he wasn’t good enough to look after anything or anyone.
Finally he’d moved out, he’d moved as far away as possible but until he got Stanford he’d not spent a day without her voice ringing in his ears but tonight for the first time it felt almost as if her words might pop out of his mouth.
He’d gotten all the way to the back gate of Danny’s house when a pair of tiny hands opened it for him,  whimpering and covered in blood the childs ankle was bleeding heavily. Silently sobbing the child latched on to his neighbors leg and said “Don’t tell daddy I played with his toy”.

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