A house

I remember this house when I was a
young kid, it sat at the end of the street,
trees and bushes cover the front of it.
It looks dark and lonely and scary.

An old man used to live in this house,
you could hear his two dogs barking from
day to night, he would never leave the house
to take them for a walk they would just roam
around the property like guard dogs guarding
the old man.

One day the dogs stopped barking, at first
you don’t think anything you just carry on,
but after a couple of weeks everyone starts
asking question, whats happened to the
old mans dogs?, I haven’t heard
them for a week or two.

After a month, not a chap from
the dogs and that’s when I see
a black car parked outside the house,
two men come walking out the house with
a body bag, they load it in the back
of the black car, it’s obviously the
old man.

Then another two bags come out
smaller and lighter and they get
put into a white car across the
road and both cars then drive
off.

The old man and his dogs are
no more and that’s when the talking
starts happening, according to Charlie (a
family friend)
the old bloke died a month ago and his
dogs tried to eat him but they ended up
dying of starvation instead.

No one knows what to believe
nobody knows what has happened
to the poor old man and his dogs.

My dad opened up the paper a week
later and reads me a piece from the
paper.

“Phil 83 from Leicester dies after suicide,
he took the lives of his beloved dogs (names
unknown), he leaves behind no inheritance
and no known family has come forward”.

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