's 2013 Horror Write-off:

" Last Night the Afghan Hound Came Back "

Submitted by Luke Cy

Last night the Afghan Hound came back.

People act like they know what they're doing. They don't, but it's a fun game to play anyway. My favorite game is nature documentary programs. I watched the British guy fishing last night; he sidestepped around a slegbubble as he cast his line out, probably to keep all that mud off his shoes. Or worse. I think he tried to pretend he didn't see it. Nobody pointed it out on the TV anyway, so I guess it doesn't matter.

Last night the Afghan Hound came back.

My dad used to take me and my brother out fishing when I was little, we almost never caught anything, but dad said it was more for the fresh air and adventure than catching fish. I always thought it was funny how I'd see a pod of gogsnappers out in the trees one morning, and when I got home from school he'd have packed the minivan up and we'd go fishing for the next few days. He'd pretend not to see them too. They don't hork up mud, though. They're just fuzzballs with long arms.

Last night the Afghan Hound came back.

Actually, there was one time my brother, Phil, caught something. He reeled in a big juicy lugbladder. They like mealworms and crickets. He asked dad what fish it was, but dad told Phil to quit pretending and throw his pole away. Phil didn't get a new pole after that. I used to leave my leftover bait on the shore for them. Them, and the slegbubbles. Puking up all that mud and sand must be hungry work. It's nice to have beaches. I wish I could've gotten a new brother and a new pole, too. I miss Phil.

Last night the Afghan Hound came back.

She didn't used to do this. My bed is right by a window, so it's nice in the mornings. I can wake up and watch the birds stay quiet. The ones that sing too loud get grabbed by the gogsnappers. Everyone pretends not to see this, either. It's just one of those games we play. But at night, it's not so great. She's started coming by more and more often. I think her neck is getting longer. Or maybe it's her fur falling out . Well, not out, out. She has fur still, but it's more like bad shag carpet.

She used to be a good girl, not too smart though, but that's how Afghan Hounds are. She could fetch if she wanted to, but mostly she'd lie down and let you pet her. I don't want to pet her anymore, though. Her tail's all naked now, and her new shag-carpet fur looks oily. Her neck is definitely getting longer.

Nowadays she just looks in my window at me. The birds used to do it, too, but I think she ate them. Some of them at least. The rest is still there. My window isn't that high off the ground, but her new legs are real long so she kinda has to scroonch down to look at my face right. It's not the staring that I mind so much, but the hissing keeps me up at night.

She wasn't very smart to begin with, and even less smart now that the slimeclam got her. My dad said that she got hit by a truck and we had to bury her. He pretended not to see the eye poking out the back of her neck, so I played along. She played along, too. It really did look like she was run over. My dad took the car to the washer after that and got me ice cream. I asked if we could get some extra for Phil, but he just frowned and said that Phil was gone. I always thought that was too bad. He seemed really sad when I told him.

I'm not very smart now, either. People pretend not to notice the eye looking out the back of my neck, and I pretend not to notice them staring at it when my back is turned. I wonder if I'll get long legs like Her. It's hardly fair to call her an Afghan Hound anymore. Or if I'll get little whiskers like Phil. I think I might like the whiskers, but I'd miss my front eyes. Maybe I'd get whiskers and long legs and keep my front eyes. My arms are feeling a little more droopy than usual, but that's probably because I've been in bed so long. I don't know why I keep on trying to guess what I'll get, I'll know soon enough. I guess it's just another fun little game to play.