I wrote this post a few years ago and like everyone says, don't ever throw any of your work out because you can always use it again. Well, I'm about to publish the first book in my series Hierarchy this month. Believe is the culmination of a story I had hoped to published on a writing site that I was told needed a lot of work. I also entered it in a contest that didn't turn out the way I planned. The idea for Hierarchy originated from this post. This is why I'm presenting it for Flashback Thursday. I hope you enjoy.
Every summer until I was about nineteen, as a summer vacation, me and my younger brother were sent to Memphis Tennessee to visit my Granny for a few weeks. She lived in the inner city in a four-bedroom brick home where she raised three girls on her own.
Granny would tell the most fantastic stories at the drop of a hat from just a casual conversation.Like this one time.I was helping her clean up the kitchen after dinner like always, when I just happen to mention seeing a pack of dogs on my way home from a friend’s house. The encounter was strange from the start and frighten me.
Upon leaving my friend’s home, I decided to take a short cut down an alley to get back to my Granny’s home sooner. I had no soon as turn the corner when suddenly I was face to face with a pack of wild dogs. Now, I’ve heard stories about dogs attacking people and how if you tried to run to get away you just got masticated for your efforts.
So my first thought was to run, but fright held my feet.I thought the animals were going to come at me for sure, but they just looked at me. The dogs, which were about ten or twelve in all, were large beasts varying in shape and colors with shinny coats and not one looked to be malnourished. For the most part they looked like domesticate animals, except none of them had on collars.The larger of the animals looked me straight into my eyes; it had sentient eyes, like it recognized me or recognized my fear, I don’t know which, but it shook me. Suddenly the larger animal turned away to go down another alley and the others followed to my relief. Once they disappeared I ran straight home.When Granny heard my story she just waves it off saying nonchalantly.
“Child, that wasn’t no stray dogs, that there was the PACK. They don’t want you.”
“The PACK,” I replied, confused at her dispassionate response to my obvious peril.
“That there was the Buda, a young pack of girls that lives around here somewhere. I think they’re some kind of a gang.” She said at my confused stare. “Didn’t I ever tell you that story?”
“No ma’am, you never told us a story about a PACK of wild dogs or the Buda and certainly not a girl gang.” I replied.
Granny sighed loudly as she settled down in her comfortable lazy boy. “Well, I guess it’s about time you heard it then.”This is the story my Granny told me and my brother that summer night while we seat at her feet, eating ice cream and cookies. She called it the Meeting.
The Meeting was my failed story, but with some work and help from others the story was transformed something I never expected. HierarchySeries