Reaction of a Memory

A sound enters. It's a squeek from a gate. My shoulder's arch up at this sound that I hate.

Gates not often opened tend to bar threats, and we came closer to violence with every step.

I was walking with Buddy, my pet and my friend, what came out to greet us was nearly his end.

A sight enters. It's an old wooden broom. My heart pounds fast and my head starts to swoon.

A man beat his dog as it shook mine in his teeth. I froze and I watched not even able to breath.

The man freed my Buddy and told me to go, he whined and I cried as the wounds came to flow.

A smell enters. It's blood and I cringe, as I remember the blood of my dog soaking in.

Holding tight in my arms, one step at a time, I carried him home hoping he wouldn't die.

It flowed down my shirt, down my white summer shorts.

Now, my body reacts because of memory's force.