The Black Dog

(This is a first for me, doing realistic, so give me a break)

Jack stepped forward onto the zebra crossing, the white strips were fading, it was as if it wasn't there. He saw a truck coming, he had been mulling over a stupid road for to long.

He walked ahead quickly, pulling his black plain bag up higher, - but then with a Muffled mind he stopped, looked at the on coming truck. For a moment he wondered.

It would be easy to stop and get killed then and there, but he didn't want to affect the driver, to pass on the Black dog. He kept walking missing the truck by inches, the wind blew his scarf into a frenzy, covering his face, whipping away the tears.

"Watch it punk!" the obese man shouted out the window as he zoomed by. He felt like shoving the finger up, or swearing at him, it was typical for a kid do respond like that; though Jack knew better. He walked past the small corner shop, like every day.

Its bright yellow paint, had eroded of from the endless cycle of years that passed. The Butcher next to the Crowns corner store, had the same fate, condemned to live with fading blue paint.

Walking forward that was when he remembered, what he had forgot. It was that simple really, to start it all again, to bring back the Black dog.

He started to run, towards the pines, like every time, he threw his bag to who knows were in a

cry of anguish, his feat smashing into the soft mud, he ran silently, his tears falling past his cheeks, like they always did. He stopped though after he had found something sharp, and large black rock, its curved edges smiling at him, graciously asking him do grasp its cold surface. He tried to resist the temptation.

He lent up against a large oak tree, he heaved out a sigh, and started crying out tears once again, screaming so loud, nothing came out. his dry tongue, curled up in his mouth, trying to swallow the guilt. He started to punch the tree, his white knuckles smashing the rigid bark, time and time again he punched it, ripping layer's of skin, he didn't care. The Dark red blood, sprayed over his arm, staining his white ironed school shirt, he still didn't feel content with that.

He pulled his head back, and started to smash it against the tree, screaming at it, this time a voice streamed out. There wasn't words, just pain flowing out.

He feel on the ground into a ball, whaling in despair. The blood dripping of his hands, staining the lovely autumn leaves. There were birds chirping around him, lizards crawling around him, slugs sprawling up the dark oak tree's. Its funny Jack thought how much you notice this, when you are in the "state".

That was when he remembered, the cold jagged stone. He turned over to face it, he slowly crawled over to it, his bloody head leaving a fresh trail. He held it in his hands and kept crawling up to the tree, the one where it all began. He lent ups slowly against it, breathing out heavily, he lifted his hand up. Then down.

The girl leaped forward, slamming against him, crying she punched him in the face, and sprawled over to the fallen knife, she threw it away, in a cry of despair. She looked at the bruised face of Jack, and started to cry again, she crawled over to him, and lent her head on his shoulder. Trying to hug him, and calm him down. - Was that even possible?

"It isn't the answer, Jack".