lucent (adj); softly bright or radiant
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My brother's hand traces the cut on my right cheek for some minutes. I have no idea how a cut can be so interesting, but I won't judge a book by its cover.
He unexpectedly moves and places a he...
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I don't dare to move as I watch the scary big dog advance towards me. It's gaining speed as time passes and I can not help but freeze when all rational thoughts leave me. I can't move. I should move, but I'm unable to do so.
My eyes are filled with fear as the German Shepherd approaches. Just as it's about to launch at me and sink its teeth in my flesh, a loud voice is heard from across the other side of the garden.
The dog suddenly halts. Sitting down on the ground with its head propped up by his front paws. It's not heading my way nor looking at place where I stand. Its head is shifted towards the kitchen doors, where the angry figure of my brother Mayne can be seen. He looks furious, no, outrageous as he leaves his spot from the kitchen and stalks towards where the strange dog and I stand. Though I'm not sure exactly if his anger is directed towards me or the dog itself, as his eyes keep switching back and forth between the two of us.
The dog seems a bit sad that he was called off by my brother, both of his ears are pressed to the sides of his face and he's hiding his tail between his legs. Still menancing but a bit scared too.
Once Mayne reaches us, he stalks first towards the dog and begins to talk to him in Spanish, "Eso no se hace. Perro malo. A Layla no se le ataca. ¿Me entiendes, chucho?
(You don't do that. Bad dog. You don't attack Layla. Understood, mutt?)
The dog whines for a second and Mayne's glaring at the German Shepherd intensifies. After a few seconds, he barks, stand up and leaves the two of us.
Strange dog, I think.
As I watch the big figure of the brown and black dog withdraws itself from our little reunion, Mayne gets closer to me.
His eyes narrow when he catches mine. "Do you even know what time it is? Have you no concept of responsibility?"
I'm taken back sightly by the tone he uses, and I'm only able to respond a small word, "What?"
His eyes don't deter away from me,"You know 'what'. Why would you decide to have a walk in the garden for two hours and not tell anybody where you were, huh?"
Two hours? Seems like I was in my little world for too much time perhaps. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't—" He interrupts me abruptly, "I don't want to hear your excuses," he informs me disappointingly, raising his hand to reinforce what he just stated. "I want you to remember next time you roam around the garden, that the first thing you should do before getting out of the house, is to tell somebody where you will be. Because Zeke's almost lost his head looking for you, got it?"
