Where Did He Go?
Sean, Age 13, Doylestown, PA

 It was a warm summer morning. Streaks of sunlight tore through my strong fabric curtains. I got up and slipped off the bed. I strolled down the hallway hitting the cold hard wood in the first floor. I walked towards the kitchen. The sunlight kept getting bigger and bigger. The whole kitchen was bright. I proceeded taking out my cereal. I sat down to eat and watch some TV. After a while, I got up and walked towards my dog’s new kennel/cage. His new cage was light brownish and had streaks of red. I peered inside, but he wasn’t there. I opened the three season door and jumped out to surprise him. But he didn’t show, so I started calling his name. “Rocky, Rocky,” I screamed.

There was no sign of him. The only thing I heard was leaves quietly bustling and the mellifluous sound of birds humming. Thoughts started running through my head Did he get hurt? Did he escape? Where was he? I remembered that he had escaped a couple of times under the fence. So I bolted into the house and up the stairs into my room. Then I grasped the curtains and drew them to the side. I gazed outside but there was nothing to see; it was just like it was yesterday, spotless and motionless. Then I ran back down the stairs to the three season room, slamming the screen door and flew by. I checked the garden fence first to see if he had gotten stuck in there. But he hadn’t; my heart started pounding. I raced to the other side and looked around to see if the gate lock had fallen out, but it was there. Then I strolled side to side, looking to see if he had dug a hole. Then I found a hole, but it was an old one, and we had put a brick on the other side so he couldn’t get across. As I started running around, I yelled, “Rocky, Rocky.”

Then I heard the sound of leaves bustling, except louder. I thought it was just a bunny or something, so I ignored it. As I walked away, I heard a low whimper. I turned around, but there was nothing. So I looked around a little and I heard it again. Then I jumped down and looked under the deck/three season. I saw Rocky’s eyes reflecting on the yellowish sunlight. I called his name: “Rocky, Rocky, here, boy, Rocky.”

He was like a whale beached on an island with nowhere to go. But he was still he didn’t move; he couldn’t fit and started whimpering again. I felt so sorry for him, and then I called my dad. He asked what had happened, and I told him that Rocky was stuck under the shed. He came bounding down the stairs. He came and looked under the shed, seeing what he could do. After his first few attempts didn’t work, he found that the only way was to unscrew the whole entire panel. After two hours of brutal work in the hot sun, we got it open. When we pulled the caramel-white panel off, it was a maze. There was a grid of small wooden panels. No wonder he couldn’t get out. So we ripped out the panels and he came running out. Everyone gathered around him and petted him. And that was the end of a nightmare.

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