Three-headed Dogs and Dangerously Thick Fogs

Um I Don't Know What To Name This Chapter

This story is from just last year. I didn't know what to write about for this chapter because there was so much on my mind, but her it is. (I'm actually not even sure what this was. I have no clue, but I'm going to write about the experience anyway).

So last year I'd moved to where I used to live and went to school there for a term and then moved back to the new place and they'd moved house.

We were in the house for pretty much a whole year and I thought this house was fine. But then in the last 4 months, shit started happening. I didn't say anything to anyone, I didn't even care that much. I was sick of these horrors and I was ready to re-kill a bitch.

Taps were turning on by themselves, usually the bath or shower, and it went for ages—might I add I was home alone when this shit always happened, it was never when anyone else was home—until the bath was full and then I'd here a plonk as if something was literally jumping in.

I'd hear scratches on doors sometimes, scratches on my door sometimes. I'd hear noises when I was trying to sleep, but no one else was hearing this shit. No, they were watching TV, eating food, talking, not hearing the scary shit going on around them.

One night the scratching on my door just would not stop. So, like the smart, definitely not insane girl I am, I opened the door, and I heard something rush into my room so fast I wouldn't stop it. I couldn't see anything, but there was a big drop in my bed, the covers and mattress were being weighed down by something.

I stepped closer and looked really hard, I even turned on the light, and I saw the shadow of a huge—and I mean huge—dog. I eventually saw it a little bit, and I saw that it was an almost black colour with big red eyes and it looked a but like a staffy mixed with a Great Dane and a beagle, with staffy ears, a beagle snout, a mix of a Great Dane and a staffy kind of body and a beagle tail.

It looked right into my eyes, faded still, and I just stared at it for a minute. Then it barked and laid down, moaned sleepily, yawned, and shut it's eyes. It didn't seem to be leaving, so I just laid back in bed and, surprisingly, fell back asleep.

I woke up the next morning and it was in my arms (kind of) and it was licking a cut on my hand.

It was there until we left, and when we left I said a hard goodbye and it ran out of the house and down the street. 

I haven't seen it since.