Emily recently relocated from Korea, where she taught English as a Second Language at Korea University and authored children’s books on and off for four years. During this period, she was able to travel to Japan, China, Vietnam, Cambodia and Thailand, with Japan claiming a soft spot in her heart. Emily has completed an MA in Publishing at University College London and an completed an MA in English Literature at London Metropolitan University. She was born and raised in Arizona and enjoys playing guitar, drawing and learning more about words each day.
As the Story Terrace Managing Editor, Emily enjoys bringing stories to life.
The Dog Bite of Betrayal
When I was little, my next-door neighbours had two Saint Bernese Mountain dogs in their backyard, a large and slobbery breed. One day, my brothers were sitting astride the 8-foot wall that separated our yard from theirs when my oldest brother Richard, who dreamed of becoming the next Steven Spielberg, proposed a new game in the spirit of Indiana Jones. My other brother David, perched next to me on the wall, had a crippling fear of dogs, especially very large ones like the two he could see in the distance. Having no such fear, I eagerly volunteered to be the Indiana Jones.
Taking my hand, Richard lowered me down into our neighbours’ yard and began to swing me back and forth along the wall. Soon, David gathered his courage and leaned down to grab my hand from Richard’s. I was swinging from Richard’s hand to David’s hand and back again along the wall, as if I was swinging from vine to vine. Perhaps it was more like a Tarzan game.
Soon, the burly dogs took notice and bolted towards us. Richard’s plan: wait until the last, most dramatic moment to pull me to safety. Instead, his glasses fell from his face into the yard below, and he dropped me like a rag doll into the jaws of the gigantic guard dogs. David screamed at the top of his lungs. “It bit me!” I shouted. “Run for your lives!” Eventually, Richard managed to lean down far enough to grab me.
All in all, it was a pretty bad bite, and right on the bottom. Richard made me take a solemn vow not to tell our parents what happened, but instead to say that I merely scraped myself. But as soon as my mom came home and Richard told her the lie, I just couldn’t help it. Smirking, I asked her, “But do you want to know what really happened?”
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