The Handle of the Knife

Memory's

            That's right! I got a dog. They gave me a dumb dog. *Yay*. I just turned sixteen and instead of a knife or any actually useful thing I got a pitiful dog. He a golden retriever, and I decided to name him Bron which is Irish for sorrow. Roaming the fields, I recall the events of today. Pretty much the entire town showed up. The preacher, Jon, our blacksmith Devin, the sheep rancher and his wife Brad and Sharlene, and of course dad. So almost everyone showed up. Just a few kids who I never knew and the leader of this colony. Hardly anyone ever sees him anymore. Except for the occasional inspirational speech telling how great we are doing. I find myself wandering over towards our apple orchard.

            A bush behind me shakes. I leap back bracing myself for what animal it might be, a squirrel or a wolf? A very happy golden ball of fluff leaps out at me and pegs me with his giant tongue. "Get this disgusting animal off of me, dumb animal!" Bron doesn't seem to care. I shove him off and get back onto my feat. Picking an apple, I decide it would be best to walk back home. With Bron at my heels I make way. I remember a day just like this. The sun was just about to set under the apples the trees. dad was holding two things that are now outlawed, a pencil and a book. I was much younger, around ten years old, and he was telling me what these little black symbols meant on the parchment. The rush of the memory brings back a sad one. Again he is teaching me something called "reading" I am about fourteen now. Only this time a guard finds us in the pasture. He tears the book out of dad's hands and smacks my dad across the cheek, hard. There is so much blood. The man doesn't care he just keeps whacking at him. I just stand there too terrified to do anything but watch. He is about to pull out his knife when my dad falls over unconscious.

            The guard gives me a warning look and orders "Tell your low-life dad to never try this book stuff again or it will be more than just fist on his face." I nod as he walks off. I sit there with tears racing down my eyes, not knowing what to do.

             Bron jumps up on me attempting to lick my face, breaking the spell. I walk to the house.