When I was younger I always wanted a dog. Just a dog, not a big request and I don’t ask for much, the dilemma was that we could barely afford all three of us together. So in order to fill the void my parents got me a stuffed animal dog which I named SAM he was a black lab puppy with button eyes. SAM was great; if I had a rough day at school I would come home and talk to SAM for hours on end. I would bring him everywhere with me, even that week in Disney I brought him. Years passed and SAM started to become obsolete, I made friends and started to like school, I even met someone who I cared for more than anyone of my friends. She also felt the same way for me and for six months I was as happy as could be.
Then it happened. My mother and father did not feel “the spark” they felt years before. In a nasty court dispute my father took me to his small cramped apartment in The Bronx and split me from the life I one knew. So to make up for the pain he once caused, my father got me a real dog. A mutt named Jeff (part beagle part boxer part everything else.). He was nice and friendly, and finally I felt a connection to something that I truly cared for.
One year later.
I came home to my 17th birthday finding a card with 50 dollars in it from my mother (from France where she’s trying to “find herself” load a bullshit if you ask me.). I call out for Jeff but no dog prancing towards me. I check in the kitchen in the dining room living room but no dog. I even check inside the hallway nope nothing. I start to panic and swing open the bathroom door. Jeff… there he his however he’s been mutilated. His front paws look like they’ve been forced to his sides revealing that his rib cage has opened up revealing all of his insides spewing with red liquid. His back torso is simply ripped off like someone grabbed his back legs and pulled without mercy. His head is flipped around with his jaw ripped open like if he was just in SAW in the “Reverse Bear Trap”. His tongue is simply flopping out but his eyes have been jammed in with buttons. With that red liquid sprayed all around the white bathroom. It looked like he struggled to get away but with no results in doing so.
At this point I collapse with tears in my eyes and vomit in my mouth. After spitting out the bile I gasp for fresh air that doesn’t smell like dog intestines. I am livid with anger and sadness, I feel like a child who lost his best friend. No I am a child who lost his best friend. I get a text from my cell phone. It says “GO UPSTAIRS”. I rush upstairs and kick in the door leaving a massive hole in it.
There he is covered in dust and smell of the same red liquid. SAM sitting there with that old smile that made me smile in the past. However I am not smiling. His smile is more menacing or “look at what I did” sort of an accomplishment smile. I stare at him in amazement and confusion.
I stare at the text and look back at SAM. With sweaty palms and shaky hands I reply:
“YOU LIKE WHAT I DID THERE?”
“You did this!?”
“WELL WELL WELL NOW YOU FINALLY NOTICE ME!“
At this point I start to wonder if this is just some evil prank to make me commit suicide or go insane. It can’t possibly be my stuffed animal dog texting me from right where I am. Can it?
“How do I know that this isn’t some fucked up nasty prank by some sociopath?!” I replied
“WE BOTH KNOW IT’S ME MATTHEW. I CAN TELL BY THAT SCARED CONFUSED LOOK ON YOUR FACE.”
At this point I start to question reality or even if this is all just a dream. I start to lose my grip on reality and panic looking around to see if some demon or a monster will come out of nowhere and kill me. I just don’t understand what’s happening.
“YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY I DID IT. I DID IT BECAUSE YOU LEFT ME TO ROT. YOU FORGOT ABOUT ME TO A SLUT AND LEFT ME BEHIND. YOU DID THIS!”
“I’m sorry!’ I whimper out loud. I collapse to the ground. I punch the floor with my fist and start whimpering like the sad boy I really am. I made him suffer just like life did to me. I..I did this.
“YOU UNDERSTAND NOW?! WHY THIS HAD TO HAPPEN?!”
“Yes. Yes I do…” I crawl back up and grab SAM whose paws are dripping with blood.
“DON’T TOUCH ME YOU BASTARD!” SAM yells out loud.
I jump back in amazement and confusion. He proceeds to climb up on his own, and stares at me with his cold button eyes. He walks towards the window overlooking the overpass next to our shabby little apartment. He looks out and looks back at me.
“YOU DESERVE NOTHING AND NO ONE YOU MONSTER!”
SAM jumps out the window into the New York cars below. As he hit the car black liquid spewed out from the rip through the seams in his stitching’s. I crawled back to my bed that reeked of blood and dust and went into a fetal position. I sobbed and cried for hours thinking, “I did this, It’s my fault, everyone left me…I’ve got nothing now…SAM was right.”
“I’ve got no one now…” I whispered.
My father proceeded to come home and find the god awful mess in the bathroom. He rushed upstairs to find me talking to myself about how no one loves me and I am a bastard child. I tried to convince him that SAM did it and he killed himself later. My father believed none of it. So here I am sitting in this cold white padded room with restraints on. The doctors give me pills to make the pain go away but nothing works. None of the other patients at this psychiatric ward understand the pain. No one cares for me.
“Not even SAM,” I whisper as I take my next pill.