“An event or gap from the novel ( The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time) which is retold from the point of view of a silenced character”
I do not own these characters.
This is my english assignment.
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Three hours ago, I was playing with my squeaky toy. You know, those really annoying rubber chickens! Yeah one of them. Now I’m looking at my dead body, all mutated with a garden fork poking out of my side. Like, seriously! I wish I could have died of old age or something; this is just painful to look at. How I ended up like this when I went out to relieve myself on Mrs Shears, my owner’s, new rose garden is quite a story…
I grudgingly got off my little bed and wobbled into the garden to do my business. Once I finished up, I was staggering back to the porch, when all of the sudden I saw a tall, dark figure approach the house. I barked and howled like my life depended on it; I was supposed to protect my owner after all. The figure was still a good 10 meters away, but I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw that it was Mr Boone, Christopher’s dad, he seemed furious, which was different than his usual soft, loving facade. I could also clearly hear what he was saying,
“You worthless dog! Why does she care about you more than ME?” He roared.
I scrunched up my nose in confusion when he mentioned this. Who is “she”? Maybe it’s Mrs Shears, I have watched them bond over their abandonment, how both of their spouses left them for each other. But when Mrs Shears came back to live at our house again, he was distraught. But was the sorrow and hurt enough to send him into this wrath? I was scared for my life at this point, but I did observe, from the countless days I looked through the front window, watching him care for Christopher, that he did have a compassionate side, and he defiantly did not have a short temper. This is obviously a touchy subject for him; he believed that he could get back at his wife by moving on with Mrs Shears, like she did with Mr Shears.
As he approached me I saw pure envy and rage that consumed his eyes all of his pent up anger, from having to be constantly calm and caring with Christopher, all about to be unleashed on me, I whimpered at the thought. He lurked towards me lunging at me with full force, but I was faster. He missed, but managed to grab hold of my furry leg, as he pulled at it I yelped out in pain. He released me once I’d managed to bite him as hard as my little jaw could manage; he grunted in pain as he reached up to cup his bleeding bicep. I limped away trying to escape, but he had other plans.
He chased me around the house to the back of the shed, where I ran into my special door and hid behind the loud grass cutter in a pile of grass chopping’s. Before my heart had managed to calm, the shed door swung open and in he waltzed. He was most surprised when he could not see me. This wasn’t the end though, it just so happened I was sensitive to grass chopping’s, and I had the -great- idea to hide next to a lawn mower. I let out a huge sneeze. This resulted in our eyes locking; I could almost sense the fuelling rage within him. My face not even possessing the capability to mirror my emotions of fear. My adrenaline raced through, as I hurdled towards him, jumping on him, which sent us both tumbling down, I bit at his nose. He then threw me off and reached up and grabbed a garden fork, and with great force stabbed it into my side. My inner screams filled the silence of the shed, only panting masking my pain. He lifted me up and placed me onto the front lawn. He knelt over my body as my life drained away; tears flowed down his face,
“I’m so sorry; I’m a monster. This wasn’t how it was meant sorry to end. I’m so.” He kept repeating over and over. Regret flooded through him. As I went, I saw in his eyes how he was truly sorry.
This was a remorseful killing.
That ladies and gentlemen is how I, Wellington Shears, died.
