Atta Boy Monologue

I have been ten for a month now. I’m going to be left home alone for the first time. Mom told me this morning, “Zeb, I have to take the Whittiker girl her medicine. It’s a two day ride. Will you be alright on your own?” I sat at the breakfast table, stirring the grits around on my plate, unreplying. “You can catch your own dinner” she offers, knowing that will entice me. I love to fish and fish. “I guess” I say, my voice trembling a bit. There are too many things that could happen, but I can’t make her stay home just to fret over me. It’s not the right thing. She smiles and pats my head, almost like you would a dog’s. The “Attaboy” is a song by the artist. I sit through the school day now, dreading what comes next. I’m buzzing with a mixture
The dull knife I carry does an okay job, and I carve the nub of the stick into a sharp point. Then, satisfied with my whittling, I walked over to the creek's edge. The clear water contains only a few fish, but I almost stabbed one right away. It flicks its tail and I just miss it as it darts away. I try again, standing on my toes. Waiting for the tad of the tad. Small, white flecks of snow start to fall from the sky and land in my hair. And then there is the. THERE. I plunge down my spear just as I lose my footing, tumbling into the creek. The icy water shocks my system, from the tips of my ears down to my toes, and I yell as I try to get my feet underneath me. Scrambling, I climb back up the bank and lay, heaving on the forest floor. I check my pockets. Knife. Here is the link to the website. Matches - What are the Matches? Here is the link to the website. Key?........................... I stood, shivering, looking down into the water. I don’t see it in the video. I grit my teeth and wade back in, hands filtering through to try to find
I tell myself. This never would’ve happened if I’d just been a good kid and said yes to Mom’s request from the get go. I hug my knees to my chest, starting to cry. This is where it all ends. I don’t know how much time passes after that. A few minutes, a few hours? I hear something moving near me. At first I thought it’s a bear, but when I opened my eyes a tall and muscular Saint Bernard dog stood before me, a brown, white, and black monster. He’s huge, and definitely not anyone’s around here. I’d remember him, I know. His huge skin folds wrap around his eyes in a way that highlights his kind look, while still making him seem wise and powerful. What does he want? I stayed seated, not sure what to do. He pounced over to the creek, stepping into the water and snuffling his nose at the surface. I watch him. His head goes under and comes up again, wet and dripping, the key dangling from his jaws. In one swift motion, he is back up on the bank. He drops the key at my feet, shaking off and spraying me with the water. My hand comes out and wraps around the key. Then, not even bothering to glance over his shoulder, he walks heavily in the other direction, away from