clyde

hiding in my closet

i can still hear the screams,

the shouts

as my mom called the police

from the other room.

breathing heavy,

i pressed my ear against the wall,

hearing the growling,

the snapping.

i could see him in my head:

my dad, pressed against the wall

and him,

holding him there.

i didn't bother to wipe the tears from my eyes

as i clutched the blanket to my chest-

his blanket.

the closet seemed to close in around me

as i got lost in the shuffle of the darkness.

it was my only friend.

i waited for him to break down the door,

fangs bared

and claws at the ready,

but he never came.

my dad cried out.

i could see it in my head,

the blood,

the teeth,

the pain.

the look in his eyes,

utterly inhuman.

inhumane.

i remember the squeaking of the front door

as the police came inside tentatively

but all he did was wag his tail.

they threw him in the bathroom-

i still remember the scuffling.

i could hear it through the wall,

mixing with my stuttering heartbeats.

the door slammed,

and they emerged with his neck

looped through the catchpole.

they threw him in the back of the truck,

slammed the door,

and took off.

i never even got to say goodbye.

he sat in a cage for ten days

before they killed him.

ten days.

the same amount of time

that we had to love him.

i wish it had been longer.