He is going to kill me, I think. He will raise his lion-size head until his malevolent black eyes stare into mine. When the beast opens his mouth, revealing shark like fangs, I will feel his fetid breath against my face like hot steam from a sewer. His massive paws will pin me against the ground and his mountainous body, which is nothing but muscle and matted, stinking fur, will crush me beneath him. The putrid, hot drool from his gaping maw will run into my mouth, as I scream. He will devour me.
I can't do this, I think, I can't do this, I can't do this, I CAN'T DO THIS!
I am standing at the corner stalling. I have come this way a hundred times before. Once again, I have come too far to turn back and not far enough to be past this beast. I can see the dark hole in which he resides; a claw and a leg are visible today. Maybe he is asleep, I hope. Maybe he is dead.
I am clutching my backpack with small, white-knuckled hands. Every muscle in my body is tense. My stomach aches and I feel my throat constricting and burning with the bile I cannot swallow. I can hear myself gasping for breath. My temples and heart are pounding. My feet feel as if they are held in cement, but my legs are rubbery and my knees start to buckle. My head will not turn; I can look nowhere but into the darkness in which he hides. I want my Daddy, I scream inside my head.
"I want to go home," I whisper.
I can see the beast rise and stalk out of his den. He is searching for me; I know it in my heart. Thoughts of murder and hatred radiate from his body. His ears rise, as if listening for my footsteps. He is daring me to make a sound, to take a step closer.
I start walking again, one small step and then another. I cannot see through the blur of burning tears trickling down my face, but I know I am getting closer. I gulp down air trying to breathe. I am only three houses away when my small body begins to shake uncontrollably. Two houses seperate us when I first hear his deep-throated growl. He is warning me to stay away, but I have to make it past. My hands are growing damp with perspiration and each step is a struggle. The air races in and out of my lungs; my head begins to spin. My mind keeps chanting, he is going to get me.
His growling is growing louder and deeper. I can see his fangs and the saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth. His back is arched and his body is poised to leap. His growls turn into deafening barks and, suddenly, he charges me with all the speed of a freight train.
I open my mouth to scream, but there is no sound. Run, my mind screams, run. My legs give way beneath me and I collapse to my knees. I am holding my backpack before me to ward off the blow I know is coming. I can't breathe. Finally, oxygen rips into my lungs and a scream tears out in its place. The creature is closing in on me, twenty feet, ten feet, he leaps. The last thing I see, before squeezing my eyes shut, is the monster above me.
I here a yelp and a thud. The chain, I forgot the chain. He can't reach me. I open my eyes slowly, waiting for the tears to clear. He is still in his yard. My whole body feels weak. Slowly, I edge away from him and rise, never taking my eyes from the snarling, barking beast. I have narrowly escaped death.
"I hate you, you stupid dog," I whisper to the beast. I hope he is hit by a car, I think to myself.
