Narrative Re-Write The Boy Who Cried Wolf | Teen Ink

Narrative Re-Write The Boy Who Cried Wolf

August 7, 2016
By moxi99 GOLD, Manlius, New York
moxi99 GOLD, Manlius, New York
17 articles 1 photo 0 comments

Once upon a time, in a remote village lived a foolish young boy and a bad wolf. However, only half of that is true. I am not a bad wolf. In fact, all I wanted was a new job to feed my family. My name is Samuel; I live with my wife Carol and our three wolf pups Elijah, Jacob and Mary. I had a job, which was similar to that of a rooster. I worked at the nearby coal mine, howling at every shift. I howled at every quarter of an hour from when the sun rose, to when the moon lit up and the sun went down. This was my occupation for the past 10 years; I enjoyed it. I did not have to do much besides howl and at the end of the day I would be granted some food to take home for my family. So when the head of the coal mine let me go because they found a real rooster I needed to search for a new job. I should mention that for as long as I could remember wolves had gotten along with every other living being in this remote village, that is until I got laid off. It was the worst day of my life.  That night my family starved and we gathered the little berries we could find in the bushes for the next few days. However, that was not enough and I could not let my children grow up without a stable food supply. I needed to find a job quickly.
The following day, I went job searching. I found this job as a puppet master at a nearby playhouse to entertain the village children, but when I knocked down the structure containing the puppets, the children all ran away from me. I had no idea why.
Some man said into the crowd, “Look at that monstrous beast scaring our kin. Is he smiling or grimacing? How dare he work here!”
Before I even took a breath I was dragged out of there so fast I ran into a sign that stated, “Help Wanted: Fishing hatchery.”
I thought to myself, “Why not? I like fish, I could help young men catch some snapper.”
When I reached the fish hatchery, I noticed about 10 boys struggling to catch. I was not quite sure how to aid them because their fishing poles were sticks with worms on them.
So I thought, “Why not catch fish for them? Then they won’t have to explain to their families why they didn’t catch any.”
I jumped into the pond, creating a thundering splash and soaking all the boys. I scoured the pond looking for fish and once I had a mouthful I ricocheted back up to the surface. My face must have looked horrifying because all the children once again ran away from me.
There I was the terrifying beast of the village and all I wanted was to find a job. At least the fish hatchery one-day occupation allowed my family access to more hearty food than just berries. I was at a loss; the humans did not like wolves anymore. What to do...what to do…
The next day I observed over the hillside, dogs herding the sheep with the young shepherd boy looking off in the distance picking flowers. He was obviously bored and I knew that if I followed what the dogs were doing, I could take over their job and herd the sheep. It was the perfect plan to secure a steady job. As the dogs taught me what to do, I became the single herder and one of the best.
When the shepherd boy brought up his sheep, I snuck around and began to herd them into the fence. The boy was on the other side of the hill picking daisies as usual. When I was all done, I went back into the forest to observe what the boy would do next.
To my dismay, he shouted, “Wolf, wolf!”
What is he doing? Then I caught on; the boy knew the village was angry at me and used that to his advantage. He was a lazy, ignorant boy who hadn’t worked a day in his life. As the village heard the screams of the shepherd’s son, they thought that I had eaten the sheep, but when they arrived at the hillside, they realized the boy was joking. The villagers took their disgruntled faces and headed back down to finish their daily chores. At this point, I was raging mad and not at the villagers, but at the boy.
The second day, the same events took place only the villagers were a little more prepared to kill me this time. After I finished herding the sheep and swept away into the forest, the boy looked up and noticed that there were no dogs around and that his sheep were enclosed.
Once again, he called out, “Wolf, wolf!”
The boy was beyond bored and wanted to get a reaction out of the villagers, which got a reaction out of me as well. The villagers marched up the hillside holding their gnarly looking weapons of pitchforks, hammers, axes and an arrangement of saws. They wouldn’t kill one of their own, no matter how annoying and untrustworthy he was; yet they were after me...the wolf that was only trying to get a job!
By this time, I had had it with that boy. He was only trying to get attention and ruin my reputation even more, while I was just trying to do a good deed. How could the village even believe him? Before I lost my job at the coal mine I was well-respected, but now I am not.
The third day, I herded the sheep as usual, but this time I noticed an unusual face. He was around the same age as the shepherd boy who had been picking flowers but this child had a kind face. I’m guessing they were brothers. He observed me herding; I wonder what he thought of that. The next time I blinked he was gone and all that was left was the shepherd’s lazy son.
When I positioned myself right in front of the child, I heard him call out, “Wolf, wolf!”
Now would the village believe him for a third time? No. No one came with their artillery and angry expressions, instead the kind boy and the shepherd man came with smiling faces. Obviously the kind-hearted boy had explained to his father that I was only trying to help.  The sloth-like boy was livid. There I was; he had finally caught me, but I was not the bad wolf everyone thought I was. The shepherd man realized what I had been doing the whole time and in exchange for my good service to the village, I was granted a sheep every two weeks to help support my family. 
The hard-working wolf lived happily ever after while the lethargic boy was punished with a large list of chores.  The End.


The author's comments:

In English class last year I chose to write a revised version of The Boy Who Cried Wolf and I wrote it from the persepctive of the wolf. I hope that readers find sympathy towards the wolf and do not look happy upon the boy. 


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