Midnight - Writers Forum

gr8writer · 04-01-2008, 12:42 PM

Midnight Redone a little and with the original ending, let me know what you think:

I don't know what breed midnight is and I don't care. I’ve raised him since he was just a pup. He’s a husky fellow, able to knock down a grown man but as gentle as a dove. Most days I take him with me when I jog. The vet told me to make sure he gets a lot of exercise since he’s getting older; but some days he likes to sleep in.

Pretty much every day goes the same way. I wake up, jog eat breakfast and shower. I load Midnight up and head to the office. Midnight sits at my feet while I handle whatever work awaits me. For lunch, if the weather permits, we walk two blocks to Sarah’s. She has outdoor tables and we share a grilled chicken salad. He eats the chicken and I eat the salad. Then I feed him a proper meal in his dish the moment we get home.

Midnight never growls and hardly ever raises his voice. Sometimes if I let him sleep in while I jog he gets a little excited to see me. After supper we usually sit on the back porch and read. When Midnight was a pup we used to play games and try tricks but we’re both getting a little too old for that. It’s from this porch we watch the sunset. Sometimes we stay up late enough to see the moon and stars but most nights we go to bed right then.

One morning when I had let Midnight sleep in, I was jogging past the dense forest that borders my backyard when suddenly I thought I heard Midnight. I definitely knew his voice; I couldn’t be mistaken in that could I? I looked around to see if he’d run after me and tried to remember if I’d left the door open where he could get out. When I finally saw the dog, it was (or seemed to be) Midnight, but a very different Midnight. I was met with a dog so injured I hardly recognized him. Blood matted down his fur in places and tufts of it were gone in others. One of his legs was swollen so he walked with a limp.

"Let’s get you home!" I exclaimed immediately. "Those wounds need to be tended to." Imagine my shock and dismay when Midnight growled at me. Then he barked at me again and started off into the woods at a quick pace.

I followed him to a remote area and was horrified at what I saw. Lying there in a small clearing was a woman, badly mauled by some animal. I bent down to check her pulse . . . thank heaven . . . she was still alive. It was lucky, I thought at first, that Midnight had found her and brought me to her. Not too far away lay a mesquite branch; it's thorns covered in blood and dark fur. This is when the thought passed through my mind: Did Midnight really find this woman at all or was he the one who attacked her?

I dialed 9-1-1 on my cell phone and tried my best to pinpoint our location to the operator. After hanging up the phone, I took off my jacket and ripped the arms off my jogging outfit using the material to try and stop the bleeding. I did all this in a sort of a daze, wondering about Midnight. Was it possible that he’d actually attacked? Why had he growled at me? He was gentle, he wasn’t a killer. I’d known him all of his life he wasn’t capable of something this horrible.

Once the ambulance had left carrying the injured woman I looked around for Midnight. He was nowhere to be found. I remembered the scene of this woman's attack and vivid images flashed through my mind. Among them a sound I heard shortly before I heard Midnight’s bark. I thought it had been a screech owl. Could it have been her crying for help? I walked home in dismay hoping Midnight would be there when I returned but he wasn’t. I knew I was grasping at straws but I thought, if I can just look into his eyes I’ll know.

The next morning I called the hospital. The victim's name was Toni Smith and they confirmed she had indeed been attacked by some kind of animal. They said it was most probably a "large dog or cat" judging by the wounds.

I wished Midnight were here, the evidence was piling up against him and I knew what had to be done if he was guilty. I would have to turn him in to be tested for rabies. That meant they’d kill him and I flinched, I tried to remember if I’d seen him foaming at the mouth or not. I cried, was I really thinking about turning my own dog over to a certain death? But didn’t I have to? Wasn’t it my duty?
The next three days were like a nightmare and they seemed to last forever. The first day I called in to work sick. I reassured myself that I really was sick, my ailments were simply not physical. Midnight did not return that night, I left the door open for him in case he got back while I was asleep. I laid down in bed but sleep would not come to me. I kept hearing that ear piercing scream and Midnight growling at me. I kept seeing that poor woman laying there so helpless covered with blood every time I closed my eyes. I searched the woods as long as daylight would permit, calling his name. I couldn't sleep so I tried to read a book, the words were a blur. I flicked on the T.V. dog food commericals were on every channel then I found the news. "Still no sign of the Animal which attacked and critically injured 30 year old wife and mother Toni Smith yesterday morning..." I turned it off and shuddered.

My boss called me on the second day. I assured her I'd be better in a few days and hoped it would be true. She asked about Midnight and I lied "He's asleep right now but he's doing just fine." When I got off the phone I put my head in my hands and cried. It had been many years since I had wept as I did that morning. When no more tears would come I fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion. It was not a restful sleep but frought with vivid dreams of Toni Smith being attacked by Midnight, only it wasn't her it was me. Every time I tried to eat a lump came into my throat and I put the food down. I searched the woods again the next day part of me hoping I would find Midnight safe and sound, part of me hoping I wouldn't find him at all. On the third day Midnight returned. His injuries were severe, but he was alive. That small part of me which wanted to believe him innocent cried for me to reach out to him. However, all evidence pointed to his being the culprit at having attacked the woman.

Midnight seemed distant--perhaps because of his injuries . . . perhaps because of his guilt. I got out the phone book and looked up animal control. I stared at the page for a long time. Could I even do this? This woman could die if I didn’t, Midnight could hurt someone else. I closed my eyes and prayed.

I picked up the phone and my tears blurred the numbers on the page. Then it rang and I answered it. "May I please speak with Elizabeth Parker?" I answered woodenly "This is she, how may I help you?"

"This is Maryville public hospital. Your friend, Mrs. Smith is conscious and says she must speak with you!" I jumped at the opportunity to put off the unpleasant task ahead of me. Perhaps it meant I didn’t have to tell anyone that Midnight had been the one. Then my heart plunged, perhaps she would.

I secured Midnight with a chain, something I had never done before. I will never forget the look he gave me, as of one betrayed by a close friend. "Toni Smith?" I asked the nurse in ICU. "Victim of an animal attack?" she questioned. I flinched and nodded. The nurse brought me up to date as she led me to Mrs. Smith’s room. "Toni needs her rest so try not to excite her too much."

"Her husband hasn't left her bedside since he found out. He told me he reported Toni missing when she didn't come back from her bird watching trip that morning. That’s how she was identified so quickly." I thought of Mr. Smith getting the call. My dog had done this, it was my fault.

When we arrived at her bedside I was relieved to find that she was alone. Mr. Smith, apparently, had taken the nurse's advice to "go home and rest" when he found out his wife would live. The nurse introduced us and I got my first good look at the woman my dog had mauled.

Toni's face was almost hidden in bandages but I could still tell she was glad to see me. "Nice to meet you," she mumbled "I wanted to thank the woman who saved my life." My cheeks grew hot with shame. She thought I had saved her life when it was my fault she was attacked in the first place. But the next thing she said floored me:

"If it hadn't been for you and that dog I would have been killed."

"W-What dog?" I stammered.

"Big black one . . . came just in time too... That panther... would have killed me ... I found this big stick ... tried to protect myself ... just made him madder. All of a sudden... big black dog ... came out of nowhere... he attacks the panther. Fainted... woke up here...," she struggled to talk, but with resolve, continued, "Poor dog . . . probably dead. Wish I could thank him... he was my angel of mercy... just when I needed one." Her voice trailed off... Each phrase awoke a memory. Midnight brought me to her, the stick covered in dark fur and skin, the theory that the attack was done by a large cat or dog.

"You can thank him," I said, more to myself, knowing she was falling into a deep, healing sleep. I was ashamed of myself but rejoicing in my heart at the same time. "But not until I apologize." My feet took wings as I fled to my home to pick up Midnight, and take him to the nearest Animal Hospital I could find . . . I would never doubt him again. As I drove, the tears blurred my eyes so I could barely see and I repeated over and over again: "Please, forgive me Midnight. Please..."

WriterJohnB · 04-01-2008, 02:36 PM

A bit wordy, perhaps. For instance, if you say your day is routine is routine, you don't have to follow it by saying every day goes pretty much the same. You've actually said the same thing twice, just rephrased it. Other than that, I don't see problems with your writing. Just as an exercise, you might want to try spicing this exercise up, using action verbs, giving description, using metaphors, etc. Here's the first two paragraphs with most of the extra words gone.

Quote:

Originally Posted by gr8writer

I don’t know what breed Midnight is and I don’t really care. I’ve raised him since he was just a pup. He’s a husky fellow, able to knock down a grown man but as gentle as a dove. Most days I take him with me when I jog. The vet told me to make sure he gets a lot of exercise since he’s getting older; but some days he likes to sleep in.
Every day goes pretty much the same way. I wake up, jog, eat breakfast and shower. I load Midnight up and head to the office. Midnight sits at my feet while I handle whatever work awaits me. For lunch, if the weather permits, we walk two blocks to Sarah’s. She has outdoor tables and we share a grilled chicken salad. He eats the chicken and I eat the salad. Then I feed him a proper meal in his dish the moment we get home.

kidstaple · 04-01-2008, 06:52 PM

I think it's good, but like WriterJohnB said, it's wordy and lacks description were there needs to be some. An idea might be to not cover those three days were she waited for Midnight to return, in only a few sentences. Stretch it out some. Make her antsy and nervous, and show it by giving examples. Other than that, it's good enough that I would be willing to read the rest of it.

gr8writer · 04-01-2008, 08:10 PM

I copied what was here to the OP I thought that would be better. I appreciate your time and hope to get some feedback.

gr8writer · 04-15-2008, 10:34 PM

time to unbury my thread and dust it off. Comments are welcome, don't be shy.

thales · 04-16-2008, 11:29 AM

I realy felt all along Midnight never did this. If you meant this as a mystery, you may want to adjust the wording to fool the reader so they really think it's a story about a dog going mad. What caused me to think he didn't was that you wrote it with doughtfull wording, giving me the option to think one way or another. If you wrote it in a way that showed no doubt he was who done it, then the twist at the end will have more of an effect.

gr8writer · 04-16-2008, 12:05 PM

How could I do that? All she had was circumstacial evidence.

Industrial · 04-16-2008, 02:02 PM

Its good, but I think it would be better if you painted a picture to the reader with more description instead of simply telling them things.

I guess more adjectives would go along way, especially in making the piece less monotonous, the way you wrote it kind of makes it seem like its a chore to read.