That morning, I was woken up by a single dog bark. And then, one by one all of the dogs in my neighbor hood joined in. The howl rose above the roofs of the houses like a mourning cry. And, when the howl had ended, a single savage bark came from the room below me. And then I heard my little brother Michael scream.
I jumped out of bed and ran out my closed bedroom door. I slowed down when Miky stopped screaming. Mom must have taken care of it. A quiet moment draped over the house, like someone had taken a deep breath and couldn’t let it out. The house was never this quiet. I jumped when the AC turned on, but something was still off.
My parent’s door to their bed room was opened just a foot, so I peeked inside. The lights were still off, but I could easily see two bodies laying in the bed. The sheets were thrown everywhere. Why hadn’t they gotten out of bed. Mikey’s scream was louder then their alarm clock.
“Mom. Dad. Wake up. I think Mikey had a nightmare.” I waited, and they didn’t so much as moan. Were they even breathing? I stepped in the room, feeling along the cool, bumpy wall for the plastic light switch. Finally, a chance to get back at them for waking me up via light all those times. I flipped on the light and immediately wished I hadn’t.
The whole bed was soaked red, like someone had poured crimson dye over the sheets. Some of the sheets were torn and others were wrapped around the pale limbs of my parents. I backed up, slamming into the wall before running out of the room. I ran downstairs to the kitchen and grabbed the phone. I dialed 911 as I grabbed the biggest knife I could find in the kitchen. The phone rang and rang and rang and rang. No one ever answered. Down the hall, Mikey screamed again. I dropped the phone and ran towards his room. What if the killer was hurting them? Oh, god. James.
The door was already opened. I burst in, slamming the door against the wall. Mikey sat in the corner of his bed, far away from the door. His face was pale white and he was crying. From under the bed was a growl. I flipped on the light.
Ramen stared at me, teeth bared. Blood dripped down his hairy chin. He was covered in the stuff. I held the knife in front of me. What the hell was going on? I tried to keep my eyes on the dog and not the person he was eating in the bottom bunk. Adrenaline rushed through my blood. I couldn’t breath steady. “Everything’s going to be okay, Mikey.”
Ramen lunged at me off the bed. I closed my eyes and held the knife out. Mikey screamed again. I fell to the floor as Ramen landed on top of me. He whimpered as the knife I held sank into his heart.
I laid there gasping, waiting for Ramen to stop twitching. Warm blood leaked from Ramen’s body down the knife and onto my hands. I could feel Ramen’s muzzle against my neck and tried to not think about the blood that was on his chin. Ramen let out a final breath. I pushed the dog off of me and sat up. I looked down at the knife that was sunk a few inches into Ramen’s chest. And I finally had the sense to cry.
I thought it was all a dream. And for a while, I kept thinking that I was stuck in some sort of nightmare. But, it was very much real.
I should be dead right now. But, by a chance of luck, I am still alive, and so is Michael. Now that I look back on everything that has happened, I’m not sure if I should call it luck. Luck would have been dying. It would have been a lot less painful. No, what happened to me and Mikey that day, was not luck. It was a really terrible fate.
My name is Julie Swartz. The date is May 4th, 2012. This is the day the whole world went to hell.
This is the first "chapter" of The Day The Dogs Went Wild.
It is pretty rough and in need of lots of work, but I am hoping to turn it in to a novella or something of the sort.