It had all started because I was too nosey for my own good, I had been eavesdropping on a man and his wife having an argument in their back garden, from what my friend Derron had told me, they argued all the time, one time he had even hit her in the face because she overdone his beef burger when they had a family barbeque. Most of their arguments happened in the back yard. Even if in the house you could still hear them bickering about something and then he would hit her, it was like a modern day Ike and Tina.

This guy was a mean son of a gun; he had short black hair, thick eyebrows and a deeply cut scar right across his left cheek. He was also quite fat, but occasionally he would lift a few free weights. As the argument started to mature, he saw me peering over his back gate and called his dog. As I saw the dog, I was not hanging around for nothing. I turned and fled, but as I looked back the dog had already jumped over the gate and was coming for me. minutes down the road and my heart started to pant rapidly, my feet were pounding the concrete with every stride I took. I never thought that this day would come, I had always dreaded the thought of being chased by a British Bulldog. This was not one of your standard bulldogs, it had extra sharp teeth with a jaw the size of a bear trap, 4 legs the length of a 6 inch ruler and was as fat as an over fed pig, but still, ran like a greyhound. Why me? I thought as I continuously looked back to monitor how close I was to the dog.

I was barely escaping the horror, my breath counts were starting to increase, and I did not think I would have enough stamina to last. Even so, it was imperative that I escaped because I didn’t want to be the dog’s next meal. It was an exceptionally hot day, and all I had on was Persil white vest, some blue denim jeans, levis of course, and a pair of exclusive black and white air force one sp’s the ones with the N-Y-C stamp imprinted on the out-side of each trainer. I could tell that this dog was determined to catch me at all costs.

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This was an extremely long road there was no side streets or shops, just houses. I had been running for at least 1/4 mile and finally, I could see the end. I had just realised that this dog had chased me from Mornington Road to Tanners Hill. If I was going to escape I knew that I needed to think of something quick!! As I ran down the hill, I had a strike of genius, that tower block on Healed Street, which was always open no matter what, my friends and I used to go inside and play money up the wall.

I entered and stopped breathlessly, my legs felt like they were on fire; it was almost like I had just had a 2-hour workout at the gym, exercising just my lower body. I ran up to the first floor. As I looked down, the dog was barking furiously, I laughed at it. It started to become seriously angry. I started to throw stones at it, I even spat, which just enraged it even more, I didn’t care, I just thought of how long the dog had chased me for. I was so pleased that I had made a temporary escape. The feeling of fear rushed out of my body the same way water would gush out of a hose.

After a while the stand off started to become extremely tedious, judging from the shade of the sky, I had been up here for at least half an hour waiting for the dog to give up and stroll off. It wasn’t even like I knew anyone in the block, it was worse than watching paint dry. Eventually, after about 35 minutes of barking, the dog decided to wonder off. I didn’t know whether or not it had gone so I just ran down to the ground floor kicked the door open and sprinted like I was Linford Christie in the hundred meter race. After that, eavesdropping wasn’t quite as much fun as the consequences could be fatal.


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