Posted in Blogging, stories, Truth or Fiction, writing

Truth or Fiction

To my few (and I do mean few) loyal readers, thank you for stopping in every week. As for last weeks story, it was……false!

Not to say I haven’t heard ghostly footsteps before, or even seen them! Just not like I said in my story. One day I will write about how it came about that I actually saw them. Just not today. Or last week. ha!

Anyway, on to this weeks story. Is it Truth or Fiction? You tell me.

 

via Pixabay

 

 

 

A Good Deed

 

She had heard from a friend about a dog in need. Everyone knew how much she loved animals and this friend was very concerned about this dog. It was her friends’ neighbors dog. Tied up in the backyard with a heavy chain. No food, no water…in the middle of summer. Also, they were having an unusually hot summer, even for this hellish place.

Her friend said she tried talking to the neighbor and offered to take the dog off his hands. But no go. The neighbor wasn’t giving up the dog even if it was painfully (for the dog) obvious he wasn’t taking proper care of it. Half the time this guy wasn’t even home. Who knows how often, if ever, the dog got fed and watered. Her friend said she had been living next door for six months and never saw the dog off the chain. Once she thought she heard the man beating the dog but by the time she got outside the man was gone and the dog was shaking and crying. She felt terrible for days afterward.

The friend reported the man to the Humane Society but no one ever came to investigate. Short staffed they told her. So that’s why she told her story to her, in tears, not knowing who else to turn to.

That same night, after her friend’s tear-filled story, she went to see the dog for herself. She wasn’t sure what she expected but it sure wasn’t the pitiful sight she saw. The man should be shot! Treating any animal this way. She peered over the back fence and in the bright moonlight could make out the form of the dog cowering away from her as far as its heavy chain would let it. It didn’t bark, didn’t whine, didn’t make a sound. Which made the sight of it all the more powerful in her eyes.

She pulled out the small binoculars from her pants pocket and held them up to her eyes with one hand while she stood unsteadily on the stool she brought with her just for this reason. It was 2 am in the morning and the small breeze touching her cheek was still on the hot side. Even at night, there was no relief of the unrelenting heat. The neighborhood was quiet and dark. Just a few street lights dotted the overgrown alley she had parked in. She was glad the dog didn’t bark but her heart broke knowing it didn’t bark because it had probably been beaten too often for doing just that. She slowly looked around the backyard. No doghouse, no tree or bush for shade in the middle of the day. She didn’t see any water or food dishes which made her angry. Just the poor dog chained up with a chain that was stuck in the ground with a heavy metal stake.

As she looked at the dog, her breath sucked in and tears formed in her eyes and ran down her cheeks. Taking that closer look she could see the dog was in pain. It must be in terrible pain she thought to herself. She couldn’t see the chain that was around its neck. She couldn’t see it as it was embedded in its neck! Oh my god! The chain had been wrapped around its neck so tight that it wasn’t even visible! It clearly wasn’t hidden by rolls of fat either as the dog clearly looked malnourished and skinny.

From what she could see in the moonlight the dog was a beagle or of beagle mix. It was medium in size but so skinny it broke her heart. Tonight was to have been just a reconnaissance sort of mission. Now though, she knew she had to get that dog tonight! If she could do anything about it that poor animal was NOT spending another moment in that yard with that chain and in such misery. She was going to rescue it tonight.

She stepped down off the stool and went to the back of her car. From the trunk, she pulled out a set of bolt cutters. She had put them in her car earlier. She had learned a long time ago to go to these rescues prepared for emergencies. This definitely was an emergency situation. She tossed them over the fence then thought….”How am I going to climb over the fence with a dog in my arms?” This was more of a two-person operation but she was by herself and there was no one she could call at 2 AM.

Her mind worked furiously to come up with a solution to her problem. Even if she could call someone she didn’t want one of her friends to chance getting caught helping her and being arrested for stealing. No, she had to do this on her own and it had to be tonight!

Her eyes spotted the two old blankets she had in her car. She always kept one or two for picking up injured animals from the side of the road. Which she had done a few times.

What if she fashioned some kind of sling? She could put the dog in the sling and with her hands free, climb back over the fence. Perfect! She grabbed the bigger of the two blankets and quickly tied two opposite corners together and slung it over her shoulder. Now, back to the rescue.

Stepping onto the stool she grabbed the top of the wooden fence and hauled her body over the top and dropped the few inches to the ground. She stood to make sure nothing was changed in the quiet of the night then when she was satisfied with the silence she grabbed the bolt cutters and walked quickly to the dog. Her heart broke as the dog just whimpered and shook and strained on his chain. It must be in so much pain from the embedded chain yet still tried to get away from a potential threat.

She crouched down in front of the dog and slowly held out her hand for it to sniff. Softly talking to it she took her time so as not to scare the dog further, even though she could be caught at any time. The dogs fear was palpable. It was heartbreaking. She slowly reached in her pocket for a dog treat. A nice soft one, as she didn’t know how well it could eat just yet. The dog stopped whining but still shook with fear as it sniffed the treat. Its hunger overcame its fear and it took the treat from her hand and ate it with a few chomps. It whimpered a bit, either from the pain of swallowing or from gratefulness of having something to eat. She wasn’t sure.

The woman took precious seconds to pet and reassure the dog in soft words as she slowly lifted the bolt cutters and cut the chain. The dog winced a bit when it was done but moved closer to the woman in seemingly understanding of what the woman was about. She gently and slowly lifted the dog in her arms, all the while talking in soft warm tones to it to reassure it. She settled the dog in the sling and cradled it to her body as a mother would cradle a baby.

She picked up the fallen bolt cutters and walked quickly to the back fence. Now came the tricky part. Getting over the fence with the dog without hurting it any further. Taking a deep breath she gave a little jump and grabbed the top of the fence. She never really was very athletic and in that instant regretted it. She was determined though and with anger still burning in her heart for the mistreatment of the dog she hauled her body to the top of the fence and threw a leg over. The dog whimpered either in pain, fear, or both but didn’t struggle in the sling.

Once her leg was over the fence the rest was easy. She did manage to scrape her forearms climbing over the fence but didn’t even feel it for the adrenaline coursing through her body. Once over the fence, she grabbed the bolt cutters and stool and as fast as she could she tossed them in the trunk and closed it. She ran to the passenger side of the car and settled the dog on the passenger seat still inside the sling. Closing the door as softly as she could she quickly made her way to the drivers’ side, slid in and turned the car on and drove out of the alley.

She didn’t seem to breathe until she was safely inside her garage with the door down. No matter how many times she rescued an animal there was always that chance she could get caught. The adrenaline rush seemed to leave her then and she broke down crying. The dog in the passenger side whimpered and tried to crawl into her lap. It seemed to understand and appreciate all she had done for it.

Even though it was in pain, hungry and scared it sensed that she had just done a good thing for it and was trying to make HER feel better. Animals are like that. Full of love given the chance. Now, this dog had that chance.

 

 

 

 

 

Is this story Truth or Fiction? Have you ever rescued an animal in need? If so tell me about it! 

Posted in Blogging, stories, Truth or Fiction, writing

Truth or Fiction

Pretty good guessing last week. The story I wrote for last week’s Truth or Fiction was… Truth! In fact, it happened as recently as last Tuesday night. You would think crap like that would happen on a Saturday night like in the good old days. Nope, Tuesday. The guy is still in hospital in critical condition last I read of the accounts. I cleaned Wednesday and got all the dried blood out of my mud room. It was everywhere! Floors, walls, deep freeze. Amazing how much one man can bleed out of a stomach wound and a few more elsewhere.

Ah, the exciting life of a couple of retiree’s.

Now that’s over with, let’s move on to this weeks story. Is it Truth or Fiction?

 

Image by tookapic from Pixabay

 

 

Steps in the Night

 

The footsteps were moving away from the bedroom door. Huddled under the blanket she wondered who could be in the house with her? A burglar? Or worse? She tried to gather her courage to find her phone. Where did she leave it? It wasn’t on her nightstand where she usually kept it at night.

She didn’t hear anything for a few seconds and was hoping fervently that whoever was in the house had left. Her hands covered her mouth to keep the scream in when she heard the unmistakable sounds of footsteps once more. They sounded like they were headed towards her bedroom door again! She jumped out of bed and with her hand shaking, she quickly reached out and locked her door then raced to the other side of the bed and crouched down behind it.

The steps stopped outside her door and she watched to see if the person tried to open it. Nothing. She didn’t see the knob move. She didn’t realize she had been holding her breath until she let it out when she heard the distinct sound of footsteps leaving her door once again. Why didn’t they try to come into the room? The suspense was driving her crazy! Her heart dropped when she remembered her phone was in the kitchen! The battery had been super low earlier so she plugged it in the charger and left it on the kitchen counter. Damn! There was no way she could get to it without passing the person who was in the other room. Double damn!

She had just moved into the house last week and was still unpacking boxes. Her first real house. She had always lived in apartments before but when she saw this cute little bungalow one day a few months ago she fell in love. There had been a for sale sign up in its neat flower-filled yard and on impulse, she called the agents number listed on the sign. Now she was the proud owner of the house.

And there was a burglar in HER house! Her cute little house and she felt her anger rising. She was not going to cower behind her bed like some….some…..whiney little coward! She would confront the person who entered her dream home and scared her stupid! How dare they? She had confronted worse in her life. This cretin wasn’t going to make her hide inside her own home.

With that thought, she stomped over to her bedroom door and quickly unlocked it and swung it open. She was primed and ready to fight whoever she confronted but the room was empty! Where were they? Her heart pounded as she slowly walked towards the kitchen. She glanced at the windows and doors as she went and saw they all were closed and locked just like she left them when she went to bed. So how did the intruder get in?

She gathered her courage and found her voice to shout, “I’ve called the police! You better get out of my house now!”

Silence. No footsteps running, no doors opening or closing. Nothing.

“I mean it! The cops will be here any second!”

Nothing but silence answered her. She ran to the kitchen and turned on the light. It was empty. The back door was closed and locked as was the windows. What the hell? She grabbed her phone and was about to dial 911 when she paused.

Her house was small. Tiny some would say. There were not a lot of ways someone could have broken in. There were no windows in the tiny basement. All the windows in the house were closed and locked as were the doors. She was positive she had heard footsteps outside her bedroom door. Was she going crazy? She drew in a shaky breath. No need to call the police then. They would just make the assumption she was some hysterical female hearing bumps in the night.

She was positive that she heard the footsteps but she knew the police probably would doubt she heard anything. She glanced at her phone and saw the time. Four thirty in the morning. She knew she wouldn’t get any more sleep this morning. Might as well unpack some more boxes.

Night time came once more to her little home. As she got ready for bed she felt a bit nervous because of the previous night but crawled into bed and shut her light off. She double checked to make sure she had her phone and it was fully charged. She also took the precaution of leaning against the wall a hefty wooden baseball bat, newly purchased earlier that day for protection next to her bed. She almost felt silly taking so many precautions. Almost.

Her eyes flew open and she was fully awake but a little disoriented. Then she heard it. The sound that woke her up. There! Footsteps. Just like last night! She grabbed her phone and noticed the time. It was the same time as the footsteps last night! But how? Why? Who was it?

She threw her covers off and reached for the bat. She slowly crept over to her bedroom door and listened. Yes! There were footsteps. Distinct. Unmistakable. Footsteps coming towards her door. Her shaking hand reached for the doorknob. The bat in the other hand. She opened the door swiftly when she heard the steps stop by the door. She lifted the bat with both hands and was ready to strike whoever was standing there.

Nothing. The door frame was empty! The room beyond was empty too. But…but…how? Then she heard them again. The footsteps walking slowly away from her. Just footsteps with no feet to make them. There was nothing but emptiness. Nothing but the sounds of her fast beating heart and the ghostly footsteps.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So, what do you think? Is it Truth or Fiction? How would you react if you heard something but couldn’t see anything? Like footsteps in the night? Let me know!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in stories, Truth or Fiction, writing

Truth or Fiction

The last Truth or Fiction post was true. Yes, I have said good-bye to a few houses but that particular one I felt needed it the most. Or maybe I’m just weird. Toss up.

Sorry I didn’t post last week. Life got in the way. So with that, here’s this weeks story….Is it Truth or Fiction?

 

 

via Pixabay

 

 

Dialing D for Drama

 

 

 

 

“911, what is your emergency?”

“I need an ambulance and the police. Someone has been stabbed.”

“Where are they now?”

“In my hallway! They are bleeding pretty bad.”

“Ok, give me your address and phone number. I’ve already dispatched the police and they should be there shortly.”

A little shaken she gives the dispatcher her name, address, and phone number. She’s told to stay on the line until the police arrive.

“How old is the person who’s been stabbed?”

“I don’t know, early twenties maybe.”

“Can you see where he is stabbed or how many times?”

“Not really, there is too much blood. He’s holding his stomach but I can see that he’s been stabbed at least twice in the shoulder and his elbow is sliced open.”

“You’re doing really well. As soon as the police get there I will let you off the phone. Do you know if the assailant is still around?”

“Well, I hope not! But no, as far as I know, they are not around.”

She looks at the young man moaning on her floor and notices for the first time all the blood on the doors and walls and a thought comes into her mind about what a mess she will have to clean up later. Strange thought in the middle of a bloody drama but it seemed to settle her.

She should be more upset. More…she didn’t know exactly. Not this calm. Not this blasé about a man laying on her floor possibly bleeding to death of multiple knife wounds. The dispatcher interrupted her thoughts with another question.

“Do you know the man who’s been stabbed?”

“No, we don’t. He just came up to my husband while he was outside and asked for help.”

Another stray thought crossed her mind as she glanced with worry at the young man now writhing on her floor in pain. Her husband seemed to attract drama like this. It was like he was a drama magnet. Not his fault really, she supposed. She always thought she was the one who attracted it and she did and had plenty of times in the past. Now she was married to someone who did the same thing. Shit.

All she wanted was a quiet life now. No drama. Nothing like this. She wanted boring for a while. Was that so bad? Was that asking too much for her life now? Seems so.

Sighing she saw her front door open and the police coming in. Finally. Someone who could take over.

“The police are here now.” She said into the phone to the dispatcher.

“Yes, I hear them. I will let you go then. You did really well. Goodnight.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

So is this story based on truth or is it fiction? Let me know! How would you have handled a situation like this?