Watch Your Back

• Katherine Dixon, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2013

I may seem like a typical 12 year old girl, but you couldn't be more wrong. If you knew me really well, then you would understand why I come to school some days looking as though a bomb had exploded in my wardrobe, and why my homework was burnt to the crisp. There is a simple explanation for everything- which can be described in three words. Fire-breathing rooster.
It started a few years ago when I developed an obsession for chickens. I was only seven years old, and after 7 years of begging my parents to buy me a pet, they finally decided to buy me a chicken for my birthday. At the time I thought all my dreams had come true at once, but now I realise how wrong I had been.

When I told my teachers a fire-breathing rooster had burnt my homework, they laughed in my face. In fact, most people had the same reaction, until they came to my house and saw living proof.
I had been 9 years old when I first discovered my roosters’ unusual talent for breathing fire. At first I didn't believe something like this was even possible, but I was soon proved wrong. I learnt the hard way when my favourite dress was turned into a pile of ash. My parents didn't know what to think about the situation. They had thought they were buying me a tame fluffy chick, which would eventually start laying eggs. I can imagine that they were not expecting an evil-looking rooster that could breathe fire. I somehow knew this would be the only pet I would have.
After I had gotten over the initial shock of having a fire breathing rooster, I actually thought it was pretty cool having a pet that was well.... unique. After a little while my rooster and me, well let's just say……. came to an understanding. However, one day I was not glad about having such a savage pet.
After telling all of my classmates about having a fire-breathing rooster, they all wanted to proof. The only way I could convince them would be to bring my rooster in one afternoon. I was slightly nervous that something bad would happen, but I reminded myself that it was only a rooster, not a dragon. What’s the worst that could happen?

After that day I promised myself I would never ask that question, because it only means trouble. In a matter of minutes of having my rooster in the classroom, already one kid was walking around with burnt hair. Everyone believed me now, but the teacher wasn’t so happy, especially when she tried to grab my rooster. Bad mistake. To make a long story short, I was suspended from school.

Now, I have owned my rooster for five years, and I have many burnt clothes! After that day, the kids at school understand when I tell them “fire- breathing rooster.” My advice for anyone meeting my rooster is: watch your back!