It was almost a year ago, I felt the vibration in my pocket as I reached for my phone. “I’m here” the text read. I got up from the couch and began to look for my shoes. I searched throughout the whole house while my friend waited in the driveway. My shoes weren’t showing up anywhere until I enter my sister’s room, and there they were under her desk. By this time my friend, Desire, was waiting outside for ten minutes. I slip my shoes on, grab my bag and head out the door. I open the door to the mudroom to see my friend walking in the second door to the front yard.
“What’s taking you so long?” Desire asked as she turned around to head back to the car. My dog then runs between the crack between my leg and the door, zooms past Desire, and escapes the house like a prison break. Desire shuffles her feet trying to stop her from getting any farther, but my dog was too quick.
   “Bella!” we yell as she heads across the street. “You go try and catch her and I’ll go get a treat” I said. I flung open the door and rummage through the cupboards for the dog treats. Then all of a sudden I hear a combination of noises; Desire’s yell, screeching tires, and Bella’s yelp. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard and I was questioning if it was even real or not. I sprinted back outside to see my dog laying in the middle of the street. Questions filled my head. Every day this dog would bite, scratch, and bark at me and I absolutely despised her. This dog has been on my bad side since the day my mom brought her home one day for my dad’s birthday and I would always say  “I wouldn’t care if it died”. Maybe this was a sign.
  I sprint over to the scene where Desire and a lanky, bald old man were crouched over examining the incident.
  “I’m so sorry.” the man said.
“It’s not your fault.” my friend replied. It appeared that Bella was still breathing. I stepped back from the road and call my mom to tell her what had just happened. She told me she would leave right away. As we wait for her arrival the old man lifts Bella up and sets her in the grass under a tall oak tree.
At this point no one had any idea of what to do, say, or even think. Bella’s odds did not look in her favor. My mother then pulled into the driveway. I could see everyone’s face in despair as she and my sister exited the car. At this moment I felt as if I had killed the dog myself. I couldn’t imagine how this old man was feeling. He had just killed a family’s dog, but we all know it was just an accident. The feeling I had was as if this had happened on purpose, for my purpose, because I had wished death upon it.
The old man lifted Bella up once more and placed her in the trunk of my mom’s mountaineer where she had laid down blanket for her.
“Do you think she’s going to make it?” My sister sobbed.
“I hope so.” my mom replied. But by the looks of it I knew she wasn’t going to make it through this. My mom and sister got into the car once more and took off down the street to the local vet. The old man, my friend and I were left standing there in the front yard. I could not believe what had just happened. The old man glanced at me one last time with such a depressed look on his face.
“I’m so sorry” he said once more.
“It’s not your fault, it’s mine” I told him.