Bench

(Wrote this for the English Benchmark test sometime in December. This also scored me a 3. I think it was because of the poor structure. My story was long and i had short snips of dialogue. Our space is limited and i didn't want to waste the small amount of space i had. So, i kind of just crammed most of my dialogue in there and i ended up with only three long paragraphs. I had a poor conclusion to my story because i didn't really know what i was going on about when i got to the end of it. But, i think it was along the lines of, "A time when you helped someone." or whatever. I also made up the part where the dog bites my hand. I do not have a fear of dogs. It was just a nice touch to add to my story and to the fact that it would only help my case in allowing my friend to adopt a dog she wanted.)

{Iv'e used this description several times. Every time i describe a record store, actually. But, i think i did a great job and it doesn't matter if i repeat it.}

"I've been thinking," Cheyenne started as we entered the record store. The outside world seemed to disappear as the high ceilings lowered and the glow of lava lamps and neon guitar-shaped lights surrounded the room. Several shelves of records lined the walls of the store. I noticed the back wall was devoted to Led Zepplin. "do you think i should adopt a dog?" Cheyenne's voice grew louder.

"I suppose. What kind of dog?" i asked. Cheyenne and I are currently roommates and i have failed to inform her of my dislike toward large dogs. When i was ten years old my neighbor's pit bull had somehow wondered into our fenced backyard. When trying to be friendly and show him some affection, he did so much as to return the favor by biting my hand. Although his teeth were dull and the skin on my hand had not been broken, it was the sudden shock that scared me. "It depends on what i find." She said as she took a Motley Crue record from a shelf and examined the cover. "There is a pet shop down the street, isn't there?"

"Umm...I think so." I grunted internally. Knowing Cheyenne, i wouldn't be surprised if she adopted every pup in the store.

"Let's go! We'll come back later." She grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the store.

Entering the pet shop, the smell of wet dog and dry cat food welcomed us. It wasn't a bad scent, just one that i wasn't used to. We passed the hamster cages and plastic exercise balls to the back room of the store where a woman greeted us.

When Melanie, a middle-aged woman with silver strands in her ink black hair, came towards us with a small, fluffy husky puppy. I couldn't help but let out an, "Aww." The puppy stumbled as he walked with the leash caught between his hind legs. He was mostly white, except for a black spot on his head and back. His icy blue eyes reminded me of the water at Mono Lake. He sat in front of me, looking up at me as if he was saying, "Can i lick you?" Cheyenne crouched down to gently stroke his matted, white fur. Sure, he seemed sweet now, but what if we take him home and i accidentally get in the way of his food?

After an hour of listening to Cheyenne make an argument of reasons why we needed a dog, i realized that she truly wanted this pup. i figured that with a dog, she would spend more time taking him to get his hair trimmed than watching Family Ties reruns on the television. I decided to agree to adopting a dog.