Chapter 1

"You never know what's around the corner. It could be everything. Or it could be nothing. You keep putting one foot in front of the other, and then one day you look back and you've climbed a mountain." -Tom Hiddleston

I see them from where I stand, running around, having fun at the park or beach. I hear them being called by their master and they always come to him. The poor foolish pups. They come from different breeds, and different walks of life. However, they still wear collars, they obey without question, and by some small measure are legally labeled as property. Do none realize what kind of life they're living?

Yet, despite this; they're happy. They treat each other like family. Part of me wishes I knew what that felt like. Every other part however, rejects the idea. Happiness is a privilege, and even I won't deny its addictive appeal. However, submitting to laws that treat your species as borderline property to obtain it; that is a step too far.

I am me.

I will remain free, even if that means I remain a stray.

However. I can't deny how lonely life can get for me as a stray. There are days I wish I could settle down, get back into a relationship. Only for me to immediately shoot down the idea. They say it's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. Let me tell you this from experience.

That. Is. A. Lie.

When you lose someone you love, especially when it was your fault, and you are unable to let go; it can make you do stuff that leads to suffering for everyone. The last time I tried fix my loss from the last girl I fell for, it ended in more lives being erased than most of you could picture.

"A tiny butterfly flapping its wings today may lead to a devastating hurricane weeks from now." -Edward N. Lorenz

Yeah, you could say I've seen that. I shouldn't talk about it here however, the past is beyond our control after all.

Ever since I came to adventure bay, I've seen nothing but happiness and forgiveness. The darkest sins of man are still yet to reach here. Joy, rage, humiliation; those emotions are there, but they never boil over.

Then again, who cares? I'm a writer who can't write. A poet that can't find rime or writhem. I have a typewriter that I haven't used in years. Everytime I sit down to write, all I do is stare at the paper and get more and more frustrated. I once sat there for 13 hours and accomplished nothing.

I hate it. I'm cold, tired, hungry, and just sick of it all. Why is it me? Why am I the one doomed to this fate? Why can't I be happy like them? Why does it have to be me?!

Why me?

...

It was dark, stars and moon giving the night's only illumination. It was near midnight, but that didn't mean I could slack off. I still had to be careful, God knows if I wake someone up how bad it'll be. I really hate doing this, but I don't have a choice. I need supplies.

I walked up to a building I assumed was general store, and approached the door. I pulled a hair pin out of my pocket and broke it, before sticking the 2 pieces into the lock. A minute later, the door clicked open.

I didn't take long getting the things I needed. I had learned quite a while ago to make these quick. This would limit the chance I had at getting caught.

Unfortunately, I suppose a limited chance is not the same as no chance. As soon as I stepped out the door again, I heard a loud voice shout, and a bright light shined on me. "Freeze!" the voice shouted.

Instinctively, I pulled my hood over my head to hide my face. I quickly stuck my right paw in the air, while with my other I grabbed part 1 of my escape plan knowing it was a police dog.

"All right, you got me," I said blankly. I heard paw steps coming close to me, and I turned just enough to see a German Shepherd with a spot light. He realized I wasn't showing my left paw and his voice hardened.

"What are you grabbing?" He asked with a light growl, thinking it would make his pup age seem more intimidating. He stepped even closer to me, at just the right range. "Show me it."

"If you insist," I replied with a grin. I didn't give him time to react as I pulled out my insurance in the form of a cloth. I pressed it against his mussel. He flinched in surprise, but it didn't help. The cloth's job was already done.

I pushed him, knocking him off balance and giving me a better start as I took off running. I turned down an alley, and charged down it, hearing the K9 behind me recover and chase after me. There was a fence in the middle of the aley, and with a running start, I managed to jump half way up it.

Immediately after, I began to climb up the rest of the fence, and was just about to reach the top too. That was until I felt something firm hit me in the back of the head. The impact made me flip over, and I landed on my back on the other side of the fence. I groaned and lifted my head up to see what hit me.

A tennis ball. The dog hit me with a tennis ball. Despite the agony I was feeling, I couldn't help but laugh. To think the dog thought a tennis ball could stop me. I stood up, just in time to see the dog disappear behind the corner. It took 2 seconds to realize he was going around the building to try and trap me.

Not wanting to let that happen, I took off through the rest of the alley. Reaching the other side, I quickly but part 2 of my escape plan into action. Picking up a stone I found on the ground, I stopped and took aim.

With a through that would make any baseball pitcher proud, I through the stone at a random building with a large glass window. The window shattered, and I slid into another alley, propping up a mirror so I could see him through its reflection.

As soon as he entered the building with the broken window, I quietly sprinted away down the street. 25 minutes later, I was back home with all the supplies I had taken. I had gotten off scot-free. And I knew that dog wouldn't be able to track me.

...

Chase had realized around 30 seconds after he entered the building that the Bandit wasn't in there. Turning quickly, he jumped out the window and frantically looked around, trying to spot a dog that was long gone.

Once he realized this, he put his nose to the ground and started sniffing. Spending the next few minutes trying to pick up on a scent, he searched around trying to find any trace the Bandit may have left.

Suddenly, he stopped. He wasn't picking up on the Bandit's scent, and that wasn't even the worst part. He searched around for about 5 minutes when he realized his sense of smell was gone. He couldn't smell a thing!

Almost cursing to himself, he glanced down each way the Bandit may have gone off to. There were too many. There was no way he could find the Bandit now. Not tonight at least. He sighed to himself in frustration. These robberies had been going on for almost a week now. He was supposed to have caught the Bandit tonight. Now he could never be sure of when the Bandit would show up again.

The store owners would not be happy.