Here's how my writing is - feel free to rightly judge!?

I stood in the hallway, on tiptoe. My lower lip was trembling and I was trying my best to stop crying. But as a rule, the more you try to not cry, the more you ultimately do. I couldn’t stop the saline tears from streaking down my cheeks.

I’d been crying since the past three days, and my eyes were red and puffy, apart from hurting terribly.

My little dog, Also, had just been murdered.

It is one thing to lose your pet, but it is another for a seven year old girl to see her pet of three years brutally dragged out into the yard and shot in the heart.

Yes. That is exactly what they did to my dog, and this is my story. I’m a fugitive, an outcast, an offender of the law, a regular face in a number of courts. And I’ve achieved all that before the age of twenty five.

I doubt that you could call me a villain. I’m not bad at heart. Neither am I a part of the various gunpoint robberies, murders, thievery etcetera that you read in almost all the pages in newspapers these days.

So, it all started when I was seven. It was a beautiful summer day, just like in all the stories I loved to hear in my mum’s special story voice. We had a huge house, with an even huger backyard. The grass was green, and since mum was especially fond of gardening, you could see a variety of colourful flowers swaying lightly in the breeze.

We were a small family - my dad, my mum and me. And of course, there was Also.

Also was our pet dog. I agree that ‘Also’ was a peculiar name for a dog, but there was a reason behind it.

Whenever I saw any kid my age playing with their siblings, I’d grow jealous. I’d tug at my mum’s dress and say, “Mummy. Diana’s got a sibling, why can’t I have one? Please mummy, I also want a sibling.”.

And my mum would smile and gently tell me that I couldn’t always have everything that I wished for in life.

Then, when I started insisting more and more, my parents finally relented and got me the next best thing - a pet.

I remember when Also came into our house. He was a golden retriever puppy, fat and unsteady on his paws. His yap was adorable as were his actions, his expressions - everything about him. He was the cutest thing that I’d ever set sight upon.

My parents gave me the permission to name him, but I was barely four, and I did not just stumble upon any good ideas.

I’d show off my puppy to anyone who’d bother to look, especially the little kids with the siblings whom I’d been so jealous of.

“I’ve also got a sibling!” I’d yell.

“No, you’ve not, you’re lying”, Diana would shout back.

“Yeah, I have. Come over and see it!” would be my proud response.

All the neighborhood kids would come and admire my golden ball of sunshine, and admit that he was far better than their younger siblings, who would cry the night away at times.

This way, I would happily think that I also had a sibling, and ended up naming my puppy Also.

Returning back to our beautiful summer morning, it was exactly as promised, and I was feeling as pretty as a seven year old girl can feel with her hair braided exactly the way she likes it and her checkered red dress smelling of her mother’s lavender washing soap.

We were all sitting in the back yard. Mum and dad sat cross legged discussing grownup stuff, whilst me and Also pranced about without a care in the world.

Now I understand what they mean when they wish they could freeze time.

I wish I could’ve. It was my bubble. My happy bubble, inside which everything was so, so, so very perfect. If only it could’ve been like that for all eternity.

But where God gives roses, God gives thorns. And so, my perfect bubble - just like all the other bubbles - burst.

As I scratched Also’s chin, he suddenly gave a little bark. Then, he started growling.

“What is it, Also?” I asked. “Who’s there? What’s the matter?”

As soon as I said this, our backyard door suddenly flung open and two uniformed guards entered the garden.

My mum and dad got to their feet and went over to talk to the officials.

Me and Also were left out of the grownup talk. As usual.

I saw dad’s jaw drop open, and mum’s hand covering her mouth in horror. A tear escaped the corner of her eye, too.

She came up to me and told me to go into the house. I asked her if I could take Also with me, and she told me I couldn’t.

I went back to the house, where she probably thought that I would have no idea of the proceedings, because she was unaware of a little hole in the corner of the living room that I knew to look out into the backyard. I could see the backyard clearly, from as I called it, my “spy hole”.

I saw something that looked like my mother and father begging the officials to not do something, but crying shameless tears when the officers shook their heads in negative response.

Then, my parents were ordered to stand to one side, and a collar was put around Also’s neck.

One of the officials attached a heavy chain to it, and tethered Also to our tall mango tree.

I knew that Also was just as puzzled with the whole affair as I was. MaHere's how my writing is - feel free to rightly judge!?
It's OK, but it seems like you've got too much happening right off the top. I notice that a lot when people post their writing here. It's like they have to get all this stuff out of the way right away. And, one silly thing that struck me--I can't imagine a 7-year-old using the word ';sibling.'; She'd say ';I want a baby brother.';Here's how my writing is - feel free to rightly judge!?
It's quite dark, if you don't mind me saying!!



Why was the dog shot?
It's really good. I especially like the line:

';But as a rule, the more you try to not cry, the more you ultimately do.';



if you need help:http://storybooktimes.blogspot.com/
That was probably some of the best writing I have seen from an amateur. I thought it was amazing and you had me hooked on the 1st sentence. Great introduction. Great writing style, punctuation, and grammar. 10 stars out of 10!!! :D Awsum job!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!