After driving for what seems like forever, I arrive in front of my old beat up apartment. It's an old dull black place. The shingles are hanging and the doors are creaky. The windows constantly stick on their frames. There's an old rusty safety ladder hanging off the side of the building. The rooms are constantly stuffy and the bathroom is puny. The kitchen can't even be called a kitchen. But alas, it's home.
I get out of my car and run to my front door. I stand underneath what used to be a cover. I reach into my pocket and pull out my keys. I put my house key into the slot and open the door to be greeted by a puppy named Bear.
"Hey, there little guy!" I exclaim as I shut the door. As I walk down the hall he follows me into the kitchen where I pour him a bowl of dog food and myself a bowl of cereal. We both sit there enjoying the little things in life until I hear my grandfather clock strike twelve. Bear runs for cover due to fear of the noise.
"I wish I could run away from my problems to bud," I say as I begin to rinse out my bowl in the sink. I turn and pick him up then walk down the hall into my bedroom. I close the door and hear its old familiar creak of ancient mahogany wood. I set Bear down on my bed and get dressed in my pajamas. I lie down with a long satisfied sigh, my puppies shaking body curled up in front of me. I grab him and pull him underneath the blanket into the loving warmth. It's been a long day, I think as I drift off into a much needed sweet blissful sleep.
YOU ARE READING
The Wicked Ones
Teen Fiction"Since you are about to die you may ask one question." Said the Gate Keeper "A-alright,' I shakily replied. I need to think about this. There's a million questions I need answered but with the strict 'one-question only' rule I guess I'm stuck with...
