A Terrible Prospect

I am walking along the highway from the neighboring city towards my hometown, a good 20 kilometer walk. But I don't mind the walk - I have the company of Jax, a dog belonging to friends of the family. I find myself wondering why I am walking on the highway, rather than the much less annoying and much more safe old railway that has been converted into a paved bike road.

I come to a place where there is a deep ravine down to a small stream that passes under the road, right outside the huge-ass fence that has been put there to protect the cars from driving into the ravine, should they loose control of their cars. For some reason, I have let Jax off the leash. A highly questionable decision, as I am walking on a highway. He is also a hunting dog, making it even more likely that he'll run into the road on a whim. But what happens instead is that he is running towards the ravine. Terrified that he will run into it I scream at him to stop - a fateful error. His reaction to my commanding scream is to throw himself at the ground, right at the edge of the ravine, causing him to loose his footing and fall down. I hear him howl briefly and then a loud thud, as he hits a rock. I run up to the edge and see him lying half-submerged in the stream at the bottom, legs and head in an odd angle. He is dead.

At this point, a fire suddenly erupts among the houses on the other side of the road. I pay little attention to this, despite several fire trucks, police cars and ambulances rapidly showing up. The fire is burning fast and hot, and they have to stop the passing traffic to make room for the rescue vehicles. People from the houses run over to my side of the road, paying little attention to me and my despair. Understandable, since some of their friends seem to have been caught inside a burning house. Firemen are fighting to find a way to get them out before it's too late.

I pay little attention to this. I am busy screaming and crying in agony; what have I done! How could I have let this happen! Clearly, it is my fault that poor little Jax is dead, I made so many questionable decisions, putting him in a dangerous situation and ultimately ending up dead. What are his owners going to say? What is my family going to say!? Everyone loves this dog, everyone will hate me - I hate me!

While I am busy crying and panicking about Jax, the fire burns out. The policemen go away and the crowd disperses. A young man covered in soot is walking towards me, crying. I have now finally managed to gather up the courage to call the owners and tell them what has happened. I pick up my phone and start looking to open the phone book when the man starts talking.

"Isn't it just great that your phone is working? Isn't it just great that you will be able to make a phone call?"

I realize that he thinks that I am going to call a newspaper or program, and tell them of what has transpired on the other side, and perhaps even send pictures.

"Isn't IT JUST GREAT THAT YOU STILL HAVE YOUR PHONE WHILE I HAVE LOST EVERYTHING!?"

He is holding a knife. I am holding an empty leash.

I am overwhelmed with terror, and start moving away from him. I try to ask for mercy.

"Will you please knock me out first? Please hit me in the head first!" I scream at him.

I have already accepted my fate. I deserve to die. I want to die. Dying will be so much easier than facing the anger, the disappointment, the blame of everyone I know and love, for what has happened to Jax. But I do not want to feel all that pain. The thought of what it will feel like as he jabs the knife into my body over and over again is terrifying.

I start running in the middle of the road, towards my hometown.

He tosses the knife after me.