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(DD) Post Deadline - but here it is

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posted on Jun, 11 2006 @ 06:09 PM
Dear Diary:

Why can’t this just be a normal mundane Monday? I know it’s me, I have to let go of the thoughts swirling through my head, but I can’t. Why do I do this to myself? Too many coincidences in my life to not dwell on the “what if”. Too much paranoia.

I have to stop this, it’s what they want, to feed on my fear, to make me back off. To realize that life would just be so much easier if I just walked away. Yes, that’s what they want and that is exactly why I can’t just go away. The disappearance may have nothing to do with me at all. Get your head together girl! It’s a long drive to work and if I spend the whole time letting these thoughts run wild I’ll be a basket case by the time I get there.

Shug was last seen at my house on Saturday, I had all my people over for a meeting. She was reported missing that afternoon and I called everyone who had been at my house to see if they remembered seeing her. “Yes I saw your dog” was the response. I knew it, everyone thought she was my dog, but she wasn’t. She belonged to a little five year old girl and if anything happened to her it was my fault because people thought she was mine, since she always came over to greet my guests. Sweet, gentle, chocolate Shug. She was pretty much the neighborhood dog for all the children, even though everyone had their own. Her gentle disposition, her protective nature of the little ones, that velvet coat, yes we all had our own dogs but there was only one Shug.

I couldn’t shake it. I got into my car, started it up, then froze. The trunk, I had to check the trunk. What if they put her in the trunk, so I would be sure. I popped the trunk and got out to look. There see? Nothing. Now stop being so freaked and get to work. I backed out the long steep drive and stopped at the top to check for neighbors going by. Clear on the right, clear on the left, and then I saw her.

She looked so peaceful, just sleeping in the leaves. I got out to wake her, it was cold and she should go home to her girl and the warm wood burning stove that was waiting for her. The neighborhood was going to be so relieved to have her back. I gently stroked her warm body to wake her, and the tears couldn’t even come from the shock of it. She was dead.

All I could do was call my neighbor to tell him to retrieve the body before the kids came for the bus and found her there. It was a long drive to work.

About 10:30 I got a call from my closest friend across town to ask if we had found the dog. I just burst into tears.

“Did you call the police?” she asked. “How can I? It’s a little girls dog, it’s my fault, and they’ll never be able to prove it, I can’t put her through this, and besides, I have a dog and they got the wrong one”. “I understand” she responded knowingly, “but I have to tell you something then.” She spoke softly. “The police retrieved a horse sized veterinary syringe from our property this morning”.

Too many coincidences…


[edit on 6/11/2006 by Relentless]


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