The Black Dog Apparition

Laura’s Point of View

I jumped over the armrest and landed on the couch cushions. With remote in hand, I began flipping through the channels. Commercial, commercial, Barney, cartoon, commercial, news, news, soap opera, weather, more news. BORING. There was never anything on during the day. No wonder everyone hated day-time television. I always did hate summer vacation from school. Nearly three months of boredom. The first month and a half was good. Sleep in, stay up late, practice with the band, just be a kid. Then the dreaded boredom kicked in.
I turned off the television. “Mom, I’m bored.”
“That’s wonderful, Laura.” She was in the kitchen washing dishes. We had a dish-washing machine, but Mom seemed to think it was evil. We’d only used it once in our seven years of living in this godforsaken house.
The phone rang and I nearly fell out of the couch trying eagerly to scramble to it. I was such a graceful person. I finally snatched it from the phone base and pressed ‘Talk’.

“Hello?”

“Laura?” It was Bret, one of my three friends and an awesome bassist. He sounded really nervous.

“Yeah?”

“Uh… af-after band practice, y-you wanna go to the… er… sk-skate park… or something?”

I grinned to myself, “Sure, le’mme ask Mom if I can.”
I put my hand over the mouth piece and turned to ask my mother for permission.

“Who’s taking you?” she asked suspiciously.

“Mom! It’s just Bret. It’s not like he’s some rapist or anything…”

“Alright, but you’ve got to be home before dark, Laura. No more of this ‘Oh, I thought you said at dark’ stuff. You’re only sixteen. And you’re going to take your cell phone, like it or not. I’m gonna be calling you.”

My grin grew even more and I told Bret what Mom had said. “Alright, so we’re set. After band practice, the skate park.”

“Okay. See you at practice,” Bret sounded relieved, and I tried my best to hold back my laughter. Men are so silly.

We hung up and I returned to the TV which had suddenly become very interesting. I jumped back onto the couch and began flicking through the channels again, but I couldn’t focus. I wonder why Bret asked me to the skate park? It was a strange place for a date, if that was even what it was. Well, Bret and I did like to skate. And I knew he did like me. I knew that for a fact. Maybe he was hoping I’d knock myself unconscious while attempting a new trick so he’d have to give me mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

Bret’s Point of View

Oh shit oh shit oh shit. Did I just ask Laura out? God, I must have sounded so stupid. Why do you always have to stutter, Bret, you idiot! You always fucking stutter whenever you get nervous. Good thing you aren’t the freaking lead or back-up singer in the band. Then the band would totally suck to high hell.
Okay, you’re going to the skate park with Laura… What the fuck?! What do you do for things like that? Just… skate? Oh, yeah, Romeo, that’s a great plan. Just go downtown with your skateboard, do some tricks, and go home. Wonderful.

My bedroom door suddenly shook on its hinges when my father banged on it loudly. I jumped and dropped the phone in the process.

“Bret! Wha’ the hell ar’ you doing in there?!”

I whimpered, keeping the sound low enough so he couldn’t hear. I hated it when he got drunk like this. I hated him. He was always fucking doing this to himself and me. No wonder Mom left. But she was the lucky one. She got out. I didn’t. She left me here. I was still here. And the only thing that was keeping his hands from around my throat was my door. I thanked God everyday for locks.

“I asked you what the fuck yer doin’ in there! Answer me!”

“I’m doing nothing, Dad!” I shouted back.

“Sure as hell you ar’! Let me in!” my Dad growled.

I could feel my heart beating in my chest. I thought it was going to beat right out of my body and onto the floor. No. He wasn’t going to get to me this time. Not this time. I went to my closet and flung open the door. I grabbed my bass and packed it in its carrying case and opened by bedroom window. I could hear the doorknob swiveling angrily while Dad tried to get in.

“Let me in you little prick! Ohh… you just wait, you bastard… just wait until I get in. Unlock this fucking door! Right now! I’m your father! Listen to me! Let me the hell in!”

I could feel the anger well up in me. I already had my foot on the window seal and was ready to jump out onto the gravel driveway maybe four feet below. But I could feel it in me. Raising and festering and clogging my throat. It filled my chest and my muscles. I swiveled around and dropped my bass. I went over to the door, unlocked it, swung the door open and bellowed,

“You’re no fucking father of mine! You don’t deserve to even be fucking alive, you motherfucking bastard! All you do is moan and bitch and whine while I’m rigging in all the goddamn money to keep this fucking shithole of a trailer here! I don’t even-“

Something that felt like metal crashed into my cheek bone.
I think that’s when I blacked out.

Michael’s Point of View

“Get out of my room, Brittany!” I screamed, scaring my little sister into scampering out of my small bedroom.

“Shut up, Mikey!” my annoying sibling shrieked back once she was out of my room. Her face was twisted into an almost satanic glare that read clearly ‘Go to hell’. Everyone always seemed to think she was such a sweet little girl, with bouncing brunette curls and glimmering blue eyes. Nuh-uh. Call the local church. We’ve just found the anti-Christ. She’s been living in my house for seven years.

I just stared at her blankly, then stood from my place on my bed and slammed the door in her screaming tantrum face. I was such in deep shit when Mom came home from work. Brittany always had been a tattle tale. She enjoyed seeing my pain. Little brat.

I sat down again on my bed, picking my guitar back up and staring down at a piece of loose-leaf paper with musical notes on it. The band had come up with a new song, and the solo I had demanded as my own was kicking my ass. I had promised I would have it down by today’s practice and I only had… HOLY SHIT.

One hour. I was screwed. Yeah.

I lay back on my bed and stretched out. But I quickly returned to my sitting position. I didn’t really like lying down anyway… it felt too… awkward.

Jennifer’s Point of View

“FUCK YEAH!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. My four-wheeler was in mid air, freshly disturbed dirt floating along behind the wheels, and my arms were up in the air.

I loved big hills.

The ATV came down with a crash, and I thought I blew the shocks, but I didn’t care. The four-wheeler was still moving at top speed and I was already high on adrenaline. I grabbed the handles again and steered wildly like I always seemed to do. About two thirds of my body was covered in either mud, bug guts, or animal shit and I loved every second of it. Call me crazy. I’d love that, too.
Hell yes, next hill!

And they said girls couldn’t be intense.

The field I was riding in - the field I always rode in - had known my reign of terror for a good two years. And the farmer who owned it knew my name, and not because I was the sweet girl who lived across the field. I terrorized his cattle and his sheep, charging the stupid animals with my monstrous red four-wheeler. He hated me and I loved it. That was the balance of beautiful life. He had at one point in time called the police and I was arrested with the charge of misdemeanor. A horrific two weeks in juvenile detention and I was out. Free as a bird. But, of course, I had a name behind me when I walked out.

The next day I was back in his field, and I scared one cow so much, she had a seizure. It was fucking hilarious. The heifer just dropped like a scared fainting goat and had a damn seizure! He could never pin the ‘crime’ on me, though. I was long gone before he even knew one of his cows was being spastic.

I looked down at my watch. 2:46 PM. Band practice was at three as it always had been since the four of us had gotten together. I turned my ATV around and made my way home. The walk to Laura’s house was pretty short, and I had been practicing on my time in the shower. I had lowered it to ten minutes, but with difficultly. But ten minutes was all I had to spare and I stunk to high heaven. I had shown up to practice pretty stinky before, but covered in cow shit and mud? No thank you.

2:57 PM and I ran out the door, grabbing my drum sticks on the way and blowing a kiss to my sleeping boyfriend. Hehe, I think Mom and Dad kicking me out for being arrested was the best thing that had ever happened to me. Gabe and I spent a lot more time together. Us along with his family who thought I had a lot of ‘spunk’, as they had said.
I decided walking would take too long, so I hopped onto my four-wheeler and turned the ignition.

I made it to Laura’s basement door at three o’clock sharp. Gotta love promptness.