Paths We Choose

Chapter 2

I flung the front door open and raced outside after my brother.  We hadn't bothered to put our shoes on, but it didn't matter.  I skidded to a halt on the pavement, next to my brother.    

I tugged on the sleeve of an elderly man that lived down the street, "What happened?"  
"One of the neighbor kids got hurt; probably by a dog," he said, not taking his eyes off of the body laying on the pavement.  

I pushed past a few people to get a better look at the scene.  I wished I hadn't.  The horrifying scene laid out in front of me looked like something out of a hollywood movie; a really violent one.  The boy laying on the pavement appeared to be about six or seven years old, but he didn't look too familiar.  I used to pay better attention to which people were our neighbors, but even with the lack of attention towards neighbors, I was pretty sure this boy was a friend or relative of one of the other neighbors, but it could've just been his mauled appearance that made him appear unfamiliar.  Blood pooled out around his limp body, soaking his clothes and hair.  His eyes were shut, and his face was wrinkled up into a painful grimace.  I had never seen so much blood before in my life; it was beyond anything I could've ever imagined.  His clothes were ripped and, well, let's just say that it wasn't pretty.  

I turned and stumbled back into the crowd as one of the ambulance attendants picked up the boy's pale and fragile looking body amd loaded it onto a stretcher.  He and another attendant hauled him into the back of the vehicle,  as a crying woman, probably the child's mother, hopped onto the bench in the back.  That's when I realised that my own mother wasn't home yet.  Then I saw her, along with my father, talking to an officer off to the side.    

As the neighbors began to disperse, Jeremy and I made our way over to our parents, who glanced in our direction, but kept talking.  

"What do you think happened?" I whispered to my brother, who just shrugged.  "Do you think it involves us?"  I asked, still staring at my parents standing with the officer.

"I don't know!" My brother snapped, exasperated,  still trying to hear the conversation.  

By listening to the conversation between my parwnts and the officer,  I was able to gather that one of the neighbors who witnessed the accident claimed that the victim was attacked by a large dog.  Our dogs, Cinnamon and Stanley, are both large dogs.  Stanley is a large wire-haired terrier, and Cinnamon is a red heeler-husky mix.  The witness claims that the dog was a large red or brown dog with pointed ears.  We're the only family with a dog that fits that description, and no one has reported seeing a stray dog in the neighborhood recently.  I tried to interject, telling them that both of our dogs were inside with us during the time of the attack, but they wouldn't hear it.  The officer said that we didn't have any proof that our dog was inside earlier today, and so, long story short, we were going to court.  

"What's going to happen to Cinna if we lose the trials?" my brother asked my parents once we were back inside.  

"We're going to make sure that doesn't happen.  They are going to try to charge us with 'dog at large' and 'ownership of a viscious dog fines', but we're going to fight as hard as we can to save Cinnamon," my father replied, patting Cinnamon on the head.

"Dad, I swear Cinnamon was inside all day today," I said.  

"Do you have any proof?" my father asked.  

"No," I started to say, but my brother cut me off with a "yes".  

"What do you mean yes?  We don't have any proof!"  

"Yes we do!  The plate!"  

"What plate?" As soon as is said it, I knew which plate.  

I ran to the trashcan and then back to my parents.  I explained to them about the broken plate, and how we were playing with Cinnamon inside while the boy was getting attacked outside.  They said that wasn't enough proof, and I guess they're right.  A broken plate proves nothing; except that maybe I'm super clumsy, which we all already knew.