didn’t even hear ‘em coming. There wasn’t any of the usual yelling, or any laughing. They were quiet as hell. Which was why I answered when I heard a knock on the door.
Yeah, I was sure surprised, I mean, it was just the usual bunch a’ bloody white kids, but they were different. They all looked real glum, and there weren’t even any taunts. None a’ them seemed to want to look at me. I was about to tell them to scram, until I saw my Herbie.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. My Herbie, on some kind of stretcher, just lying there, in a crumpled heap. Not a single twitch – nothing.
I felt like screaming. I wanted to swear insults at those cruel white kids and beat them senseless for what they’d done. All the feelings I’d kept hidden from my poor, poor Herbie suddenly welled up. Anger, sorrow, pain. Memories abruptly ripped themselves out of my mind, and I fought to keep them under control. …show more content…
Herbie, with long, red lashes across his back. Herbie, with his handsome new clothes in tatters. Herbie, collapsing on the veranda, sick and dizzy enough to chuck out his stomach. He never complained at all, not even when his raw wounds would sting as I bathed the sand and grit out of them.
My mouth opened to yell at those damn murderers, trying to shout out my fury, loud enough for the neighbours to hear. But nothing came out. Not a single
Yeah, I was sure surprised, I mean, it was just the usual bunch a’ bloody white kids, but they were different. They all looked real glum, and there weren’t even any taunts. None a’ them seemed to want to look at me. I was about to tell them to scram, until I saw my Herbie.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. My Herbie, on some kind of stretcher, just lying there, in a crumpled heap. Not a single twitch – nothing.
I felt like screaming. I wanted to swear insults at those cruel white kids and beat them senseless for what they’d done. All the feelings I’d kept hidden from my poor, poor Herbie suddenly welled up. Anger, sorrow, pain. Memories abruptly ripped themselves out of my mind, and I fought to keep them under control. …show more content…
Herbie, with long, red lashes across his back. Herbie, with his handsome new clothes in tatters. Herbie, collapsing on the veranda, sick and dizzy enough to chuck out his stomach. He never complained at all, not even when his raw wounds would sting as I bathed the sand and grit out of them.
My mouth opened to yell at those damn murderers, trying to shout out my fury, loud enough for the neighbours to hear. But nothing came out. Not a single