Lost: Labrador Retriever and Black Labrador
Tuesday, 09 October 2012
Lost
I was walking along the road with my dog by my side, when all of a sudden he darted off across the road, and round the corner. I started shouting at the top of my voice, “BORIS, COME HERE!” To my amazement a black Labrador came strolling round the corner. As Boris started strolling across the road, a black car came round the bend. All I saw was Boris being pushed over, and the car rolling over him. Through the streaming tears in my eyes, I saw a figure walking out of the car, and bend down to look under. I could not watch, I covered my eyes, the only noise I could hear was my screaming, and uncontrolled breath. Then I heard the car drive past me and full speed. I was horrified that the person hadn’t said anything to me, not even sorry. I eventually pulled myself together, and walked over to where I last saw Boris. There was no mark, no blood, not even a dog. Then I saw in very small writing, a mobile number scratched into the concrete, obviously done with a stone. The recent rainfall hadn’t washed it away, meaning it must be from the person in the car, who killed my dog. As I walked into my house, devastated by what had just happened, the thing I was most dreading was telling my family. As everyone in my family walked away, in floods of tears, I was left there, with this number on a piece of paper, in my hand, and a phone right in front of me. I decided to ring it, as there was no harm in giving it a go. As I typed in the numbers on my phone, I was shaking from head to toe, 07..
8..9…8
7..9….
6..9…
4….3. Finally, I had finished typing it in, now all I had to decide was whether to ring this number. I eventually pressed the green, call button. After 6 rings, a young woman with a slight American accent, which was quite low, answered the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hello… umm… I was um… wondering if uhh…. This was the right number? ARE YOU THE ONE WHO KILLED MY DOG?!”
“ahh, yes, I’ve been expecting you to
Lost
I was walking along the road with my dog by my side, when all of a sudden he darted off across the road, and round the corner. I started shouting at the top of my voice, “BORIS, COME HERE!” To my amazement a black Labrador came strolling round the corner. As Boris started strolling across the road, a black car came round the bend. All I saw was Boris being pushed over, and the car rolling over him. Through the streaming tears in my eyes, I saw a figure walking out of the car, and bend down to look under. I could not watch, I covered my eyes, the only noise I could hear was my screaming, and uncontrolled breath. Then I heard the car drive past me and full speed. I was horrified that the person hadn’t said anything to me, not even sorry. I eventually pulled myself together, and walked over to where I last saw Boris. There was no mark, no blood, not even a dog. Then I saw in very small writing, a mobile number scratched into the concrete, obviously done with a stone. The recent rainfall hadn’t washed it away, meaning it must be from the person in the car, who killed my dog. As I walked into my house, devastated by what had just happened, the thing I was most dreading was telling my family. As everyone in my family walked away, in floods of tears, I was left there, with this number on a piece of paper, in my hand, and a phone right in front of me. I decided to ring it, as there was no harm in giving it a go. As I typed in the numbers on my phone, I was shaking from head to toe, 07..
8..9…8
7..9….
6..9…
4….3. Finally, I had finished typing it in, now all I had to decide was whether to ring this number. I eventually pressed the green, call button. After 6 rings, a young woman with a slight American accent, which was quite low, answered the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hello… umm… I was um… wondering if uhh…. This was the right number? ARE YOU THE ONE WHO KILLED MY DOG?!”
“ahh, yes, I’ve been expecting you to