Author's Book

I hate June.

Don't get me wrong, I love Pride Month just this year it has been a living hell fo me. I have some stuff ready prewritten from my online vet document so here it all is.

Fast forward to recent events, this year is not the worst year I have experienced but close to it. I had finally stopped having nightmares over a video from 2016 that had resurfaced. The name of the video is called Funky Town Gore, I should have just stayed curious. I had found out about it on Tik Tok, a user online showing the video but blocked the screen. You could only hear the screaming of the victim being brutally tortured and criminals laughing all the while the song Funky Town played in the background.
 I wish I had stopped myself before finding original footage and what I saw traumatized me. Within the first 30 seconds of the video I vomited and went to my parents to warn them about this video. They told me to stay wavy from anything related to it and said the same to my siblings. They both watched the video, my father didn’t make it through the whole video due to its disturbing nature. My mother on the other hand was able to stomach watching it. When I was handed my phone back I imminently went to swipe and delete it off my phone forever. But for some reason an urge in the back of my mind told me to finish the video. As much as I try to keep myself from looking at it, I caved in.
 Thinking, ‘Oh if I watch it fully then I won’t think about it again’. That was a lie. I watched it, trying to be as calm as humanly possible though the whole three minute video. The victim had his face skinned off, no eyes at least none that I can tell from the poor quality, no hands, tied with wires and hooked up to some kind of medical bag of unknown liquid substance. It didn’t end there, for one of the laughing men tried to decapitate him with a box cutter. Repeatedly slicing at the victim’s neck until the victim bites onto the blade. Another got into the mix and used a metal pole to open the victim’s mouth to release the blade as they went back to cutting him. Eventually the victim breaks one of his arms out and places his arm on the face to defend it.
 The video stopped there, my body was shaking in fear. I couldn’t even understand what they were all saying throughout the video. For all I could identify is that it took place in Mexico and the people were speaking some form of Spanish. To this day I can only remember bits and pieces of the sound, my brain blocking any mental pictures of the video itself. For an odd reason I find myself being curious about other videos like this that may be resurfacing all over the internet. Despite talking myself down from ever going from an experience like that again, the small urge in the back of my mind I fight on a daily basis. But one can say it is better than what it used to tell me to do two years ago. I was once suicidal, called selfish for being so from my own father.
 I got the medication to help me from then on, every time I would try to talk to a therapist they seemed to not know what to make another appointment after the first day.  Perhaps they were too busy or I spoke too much, either way I use art as a way to vent without consequence. Or at least I thought so until it would sometimes put me in a difficult spot with my parents if they were involved in the vent art I made. I just draw or paint what is on top of my head, just to release those emotions instead of holding them in. I feel numb but yet overly sensitive.
 Sassy was taken away from us just two days ago, June 6th of 2023 at 4:50pm. Her last heartbeat in my mother’s arms at 6:01pm. It was just too fast, she was just a puppy. That old lady showed no remorse whatsoever, she told my sister who had watched the whole thing to stop crying. That we could just get another dog, it made my blood boil. I couldn’t hear very much after that. All I could hear was myself and my family screaming in pain that rivers of tears flowed out of my eyes. Sassy’s blood had gotten all over my mother’s work clothing as she pulled our puppy from under the car.
 That’s when the old lady admitted when she had seen Sassy cross the road. If she saw her then why didn’t she slow down? Why didn’t she slow down!? We live in a school zone for crying out loud, you don’t speed through a school zone. She could have hit my sister or one of the other neighborhood kids playing outside. Sassy was too young to die. Why was that old lady so heartless? You can’t just kill our dog then tell us to replace her. That’s not right, it isn’t!
 This woman comes down our street regularly at 4:42pm when Sassy is outside to go do her business. If I had been fast enough, I could have saved her from that awful woman. I could have saved her. But I didn’t. I have gathered all the information I could on this woman, like who she is a regular at the smoke store Smoker’s Friendly. I am going to get justice for her, one way or another. This woman should not be allowed to get away with this. I have written all the evidence I have down and we are going to report her to the police Monday June 12th. Even though I am still crying on the inside, our neighbor that has been helping our family this whole time had given us a newborn pit puppy yesterday June 8th.
 Calcifer likes him already, his depression over Sassy disappeared and Calcifer started eating again. Even playing with the puppy, which he never did with Sassy. I think it’s because we are all afraid to lose another family member. I am not ready for a new dog, not in the slightest. I cried myself to sleep last night because despite us not being able to deny the puppy, I haven’t healed yet. I don’t want the same thing to happen. Although one thing is for sure, he can’t really run around yet. At least not at a fast pace to where we can’t catch him.
 He reminds me so much of Sassy that it hurts, it hurts so bad. Even while writing this right now I can feel tears beginning to form in my eyes. My vision is muddied by the forming tears as I blink repeatedly to hold them back. I can’t cry, not in class. I have been picking at my skin on my arms and face without realizing it sometimes. Normally when I would do so, Sassy would stop me by giving me a small bite on the hand or sitting in my lap. I miss her, I want to hold her again even if it is just for one more time. I want to hear her heartbeat as I give her a belly rub, hearing her bark about her day at home with Dad.
 I’ll never be able to see her zoomies again, for when mom comes home, I loved seeing her happy face. She was so excited that mom was home when she ran over. All I hope is that it is her last memory and that she does not remember suffering. When I try to talk about it either I seem to have no emotions or I am over emotional to the point no one can understand my words. I am going to catch the woman that killed our dog, one way or another. I will not give up until Sassy has Justice. Today, June 12th, six days after Sassy was killed, we were able to make a more detailed report to the police through the school. All they said that they could do was be on the lookout for her and portal the area.
 That was not what I wanted to hear. I wanted to hear that they would bring Sassy Justice. Not wait around until they got another speeding report on this woman. Now if this woman had hit my sister or any other human then they would be able to do more. It should not matter if it is human or animal, Sassy was a part of our family and that woman took her away. Karma wouldn't even do enough Justice for what she did. I want my dog back but I can’t. No other dog will take her place despite what my mom does. I don’t care about the dog they are supposed to be getting thursday. She is not my dog, Sassy is my dog. I just……………. I still need time to heal. I’m not ready.