Kylie's Story

The story of a wounded soul.

            Before Steve moved from his chair, they had burst into the room, seized him, clapping a hand over his mouth, and now they carried him, limp with terror, out of the small yellow apartment… Well, I wish my story could begin as interesting as that, but unfortunately, it doesn’t. I’m here today to blazon my bizarre story, because I believe it always helps to share your true feelings. I think it will help to take the unwieldy difficulties off of my shoulders. In order to tell you my story, I need to explain the nature of having parents. You see, when we are born, God gives all of us a mommy and daddy. Sometimes they are not our real parents and sometimes there is only one of them. They are there to love you and take care of you; they are your support, your guide, and your interpreter. They are the greatest gifts from God.

My daddy, on the other hand, was not so great; he was scathing and heinous, and seemed like a person who might suffer from ennui or megalomania. I will never understand why he hated me so much. All my life, I had done all I could to make him love me, even if it meant just for a day or a couple of minutes. I will never understand why he flouted me constantly or scourged me almost every night. I never had a mommy, and my daddy was never around to be there for me. I was all alone. The only times he was ever home was at night, and that’s when he would yell and scream at me and hit me until I cried. He would blame me for all of his problems and then would leave me in a heap of my own blood and tears.

This was my miserable life; I was alone, lost and afraid, always scared of tomorrow and what it might bring.

There were times when I could play the part of an insurgent and stand up against him, but those transient moments usually ended with him castigating me and hitting me till I could no longer stand.

I had to learn to take care of myself. In order to eat, I had to quickly learn to be surreptitious and filch food from the kitchen whenever I could. I hid in closets and corners every time my daddy came home from work, and there were times I contemplated on running away, but deep down I knew I wouldn’t even last two days.

I was helplessly fettered down by my own life; I was trapped, alone and afraid.

Finally after many long months, I was extricated from my previous life and was taken away from my daddy. I was taken to a special place where I was fed and taken care of, and there I met others like me; they were all alone and afraid. The people who took care of me were salutary and friendly, and did all they could to help me. I was still troubled by my past, and the doctors had to give me soporifics to lull me off to sleep at night.

            It wasn't until two months later that I found out that I was going to be adopted, and before I even knew it, I had a new mommy and daddy plus some new siblings. I was adopted by an anomalous family, but they love me, and I love them all very much. In a matter of a couple of months, my life had transmuted before my eyes. I was no longer alone.

            Well, that's my story. I hope you enjoyed it. My name is Kylie, and I am by far the luckiest dog in the world.

The End

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