All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Boy's Bestfriend
Timothy Hunter lived on the edge of Wasterstille, where criminals roamed the streets. People were robbed and killed on a daily basis; drunks emerged on the streets as soon as the sun fell behind the city buildings. Among those drunks was Timothy’s father who arrived home in the middle of the night yelling and hollering at Timothy’s mother, dishes were thrown and often the next day Timothy would notice fresh bruises on his mother’s delicate skin. She would try her best to conceal the purple marks with powered foundation as best as she could before she headed off to her first of two jobs; that she worked just to keep the family above water. Timothy had no friends at school. He wore red plaid pants to school every day, the same pair of red plaid pants, along with a switch up of gray and blue shirts that he got for Christmas two years ago. He was made fun of and bullied and often came home with thoughts of suicide engrained in his mind, but the strong boy that he was still had hope that things would work out for the better.
One day taking the long way home from school Timothy found an abandoned dog, with a fresh red wound on his side and bones visible through his skin. He slowly approached the dog that cowardly backed away. Timothy went home that evening and while eating dinner slipped a little piece of bread in his pocket, with barely enough to satisfy his own hunger pains he snuck out his window to bring this piece of bread to the dog, who graciously swallowed the bread in one gulp. Timothy continued this routine every day for the next week and finally had gained enough of the dogs trust to bring him home. Afraid of his father’s abuse that he may display toward the dog he hid the dog in an abandoned house just a couple houses down the street from his house. He nurtured the dog back to health; he cleaned up the flea invested wound on the dog’s side and finally named him Buddy. Once Buddy was able to walk without assistance they went on long walks together around the park and played catch and Timothy taught him tricks. Buddy was the smartest dog you had ever seen, and he was Timothy’s first best friend.
Everyday after a long, dreadful day at school Timothy could look forward to a wet, slobbery dog waiting for him back at home, a dog that would practically knock Timothy over with excitement when he walked through the door with a tiny piece of bread. One day after returning home from a nice walk in the park with Buddy, Timothy heard his parents arguing. He snuck upstairs, as to not get pulling into the yelling and screaming, and locked the door. He fell into his bed and just laid there waiting for the yelling to stop. But it didn’t and he finally heard a couple cups shatter on the floor and a cup smashing against the wall and amongst those other sounds he heard a woman crying, his mother was crying, if you didn’t know in advance that hearing or seeing your mother crying is one of the worst feelings in the world, well now you know. Outraged, Timothy ran downstairs and saw his mother cowering in the corner of the kitchen and his father holding a plate up high ready to throw it at her. Before his dad had the chance to throw it he stepped in the way. Angered by his sons disobedience and interference he smacked him across the face with his large forearm. Blood streamed gently down Timothy’s face along with salty tears that he just couldn’t hold in. Timothy ran out the door and down the street to the abandoned house and he cried in Buddy’s coat that became all matted with blood, but Buddy sat their obediently under Timothy finally fell asleep.
That night Timothy’s father was arrested and Buddy moved into the house with Timothy’s mother and brother. Buddy had sparked a new happiness in the family that was never there before and they all loved the dog so much that they would fight over who would get to walk him and bathe him and the such. But Buddy knew being the smart dog that he was who Timothy was and he would never forget the generosity Timothy showed him from the very beginning and because of that every night as Timothy fell asleep in bed, Buddy would climb up next to him and sleep there too. Always watching guard over the boy who saved his life and the boy whose life he had changed.
The End.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.