Petlife logo

Trigger

Life writing and one close to my heart.

By Stephen ScorerPublished 4 years ago 6 min read
2

“Steven, will you be alright tonight, we won’t be too long”

“Yes mam, I should be okay, Paul will be in bed soon anyway”

Stevens’s parents were going out for the night, to the Christmas party at the local workingmen’s club in the village. This is something that they had done since moving into the rural village of Tuxford, some five years ago. Tonight though was going to be a night for all involved will tragically remember, so different to those Christmas nights past.

Two hours had passed; Stevens’s younger brother had gone to bed as soon as their parents had left for their evening of drinks and dance. He was into his fifth comic book when a sudden bright flash of light startled him; this would soon be followed by the largest crash of thunder that he had ever heard. The storm was over the bungalow and Steven thought ‘I am glad we are not in a house that would have felt to close’, second on a list that was titled My Scared Shitless Of, was thunder and lightning with only the top-notch being filled by being petrified of the dark.

After a few seconds of eerie silence and enough time for the windows and picture frames to stop rattling, he went in to check on his little brother and with a whisper…

“Paul”

ZZzzzz

“Still asleep, little bugger can sleep through anything”

Suddenly remembering that the dogs were outside in their kennels, he grabbed the only torch he could find and put on his tatty raincoat. He popped his head out of the door, ‘great the dark’ he thought, he then stepped out into the dark noisy storm that occasionally flashed and roared at him. Steven ran towards the kennels as fast he possible could, he flipped open the latch and opened the gates, and then ran back into the house, hoping that the dogs would have the sense to follow him.

The family had always been great pet lovers; they had a Hugh ginger cat that they fondle named Marmalade, who on this terrible night would be curled up tight in her basket. Then there were the three dogs, two German Shepherds, Radar the longhaired boy and his shorthaired girlfriend, Tessa and then there was Stevens’s dog, an old Golden Retriever called Trigger.

He called out to the dogs “Radar”, “Tessa”, “Trigger”

“Come on guys”

The two younger dogs came bounding through the door with Radar nearly knocking him over the kitchen table, he was a big dog. He then waited for what seemed an age, but still no Trigger…

“Trigger, come on boy”

Steven then put the two dogs into the lounge, hoping that they would dry off in front of the now fading coal fire, well if anything it will help to get rid of that wet dog smell. He then went back into the boy’s bedroom, firstly checking on Paul ‘No nothing’. Then he peered out into the storm-drenched yard through the window, seeing that the torch was not powerful enough to shine into the yard, Steven waited for the next flash of lightning.

With the next expectant flash, the backyard was again illuminated enough for him to make out his old pal; Tigger was lying motionless in a large puddle, just getting soaked to the fur. Steven slightly tapped on the window and whispered “Trigger”, but nothing, no movement, no waggy tail, which would have been his normal response.

Steven gulped, whipping his already tearful eyes; he could feel the fear already building inside of him. He waited for another flash; the storm must be traveling further away now because the rumblings were getting faint and less frequent.

FLASH and still Trigger just lay there, motionless. Another gulp and a now quivering Steven decided to go outside on this awful night, this time he took his duvet from the bed, hoping at least to keep his best friend warm and dry.

“What an awful night to die” as the torch dimly lit the path in front of him. Trudging through the many puddles now until he reached the corner and into the backyard. Tigger was still lifeless and as Steven knelt down beside his blond pal, the tears started to stream, he knew that they would never again win the dog with the waggiest tail rosette; Steven hugged and gently stroked Trigger…

“Come on boy, you are all wet”

Panic was starting to set in, what could he do? He carefully placed the duvet over the damp dead dog and ran back inside the bungalow and into the bedroom.

“Still asleep, goddammit Paul”

A sobbing Steven then went to the lounge to check on the two younger dogs and like his brother, they were fast asleep, curled up together in front of the fire. Steven slowly and carefully stroked the pair of zonked out doggies, he did not want to wake them up “let them rest”. Steven thought it was strange that his mum had not left any contact numbers this time, ‘that was strange’ he thought. Still sobbing away, he started to ring his grandma; ‘Super gran will know what to do’ and when she answered, she could barely make out who or what they were saying…

“Grandma” sobbing down the line “Tr…ig…ge…r is d…e…a…d”

“Oh my goodness, are you okay, Steven”

“Where are your mum and dad?”

“O… U… T” through violent sobbing

“Steven… Steven” but the phone was silent now.

So after the shock, Super Gran decides to ring Grace who was their other grandmother, to see if the parents were over there visiting, but no, nothing from that end either. Eventually, they managed to find out that they were at the club in the village, so they left a note for Chris and Linda.

‘A message for Mr. and Mrs. Spires from Grace Owen, Please contact Steven at home ASAP’

But it would still be after midnight until they both managed to make it back home, upon which they found Radar and Tessa huddled together in front of the fire, ‘strange’ they both thought, they would normally be in their beds in the kitchen. Then they went to check on the boys, only to find Paul in his bed, still fast asleep, strangely though they noticed Stevens’s duvet missing from his also empty bed.

They nervously called out for Steven and just as they had finished a rumble and a flash from up above illuminated the backyard. They were first startled which soon turned to horrified, when they noticed the bulging wet duvet in the middle of the yard, careful not to wake Paul they gently tapped on the window, nothing, no movement at all?

Linda had also noticed that Steven's winter coat was missing from its hook, this started to get the still two young parents worried, panicking they made their way into the now sodden backyard. Chris could not find the torch, so they had to rely on the occasional lights from the lord above, reaching the yard they both waited for the next flash to fill the damp space.

“Steven” the both fearfully whispered, then “Trigger” and again, nothing!

“Oh god, no” Linda nervously whimpered.

Moving closer and with another flash, they were both looking over the still and silent pile of wet bed sheets; they both knelt down, either side of the strange wet bundle. Just as they started to carefully and cautiously peel away the drenched duvet, another bright flash flooded the yard and for the first time, they could see what was under those wet sheets. Two bodies huddled together, like best friends saying their last goodbyes, one lifeless body and the other a small sobbing boy with a torch in hand, the light gentle shone up through his face and onto his best friends soulless features whilst whispering the words that would haunt him forever…

“Trigger… Trigger… Trigger”

dog
2

About the Creator

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.