“I really hope I pass this test,” I say, and I see a half-starved dog watching me from a distance.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” my best friend, Thomas, reassures me. I look at the dog, and he growls at me.

As we walk, some scary looking thugs start to follow us, calling out threats. The dog slinks closer, but keeps his distance; watching us all the while. The thugs attack us; drag us into the alley, and the dog follows, barking. The barks sound like laughter as we do our best to defend ourselves. Finally, the thugs had gotten bored and left, but still the dog remained, a bit more well fed, and closer than ever before. We ran to Thomas’ house, the dog hounding after us. We get inside, and shut the door before the dog enters. I pick up the phone and start to call the police, but stop, not wanting to be the victim of vengeance. I can hear the dog, scratching at the door, wanting to get in. I open the door to silence the beast, stopping once I notice that it has grown quite a bit. We clean up, then Thomas calls his mom, and she comes back home to give us a ride to school. As she is driving, I look back and see the dog still following. We get out of the car and I begin to go to the crosswalk.

“We’re going to be late if we walk all the way down there,” says Thomas, starting to cross the street, jaywalking as always.

“One of these days, you’re going to get hit by one of these cars.”

He laughs, then walks across the street. I look around, and see a car racing over the hill. I see my friend, in the way. The dog is at my shoulder, and yet I do nothing but watch. Moments before it hits him, the dog howls, and I look away. I hear a horn blare, a sickening crunch, and squealing tires. I look up, and the world freezes. Even the dog is silent. Everything crashes down. Then everything speeds up again. Then it is too fast. Too loud. Everything is getting blurry. Colors, shouting, barking, horns. Sirens. I panic, and I run, the dog following me, biting me, hurting me. I run as fast and as far as I can. I am afraid.