The Purple-Eyed Puppy

Derek had a hard time thinking about the last time he felt something. Besides competing in sports, he was always a middle of the road kind of guy- never too high and never too low. Some would even say that he was monotone, which he resented. Then, he thought of that one night when he swore that his girlfriend had turned into something that he had never seen before.

“You are done,” he said to Sloan, shaking his head. “Forget about it.”

“You are so funny,” she said, sitting on the ground, waiting for her food to come out of the microwave.

“You are so done,” he said, in a very matter-of-fact way.

“What? I can’t help it,” she said, laughing uncontrollably. “You are too funny.”

They sat on the couch together and turned on one of those far-fetched teen dramas which puts every teenage problem into one show. It was a shame that young kids aspired to have this kind of high school experience, he thought.

“Come cuddle with me,” he said, feeling odd as he heard his own voice.

As soon as she picked her head up, Derek could already sense that something was wrong.

“Uh… something is wrong.” Sloan said, with an unsteady shake of horror in her voice.

Derek had lost all control of his internal temperature and any control of his emotions, sensing that Sloan was about to panic and he was somehow responsible.

“You will be fine. Just relax,” he said, assuring her.

“Are you sure? because this doesn’t feel good,” Sloan said, growing more worried.

His heart battled inside his chest. He was facing negative images that he had never encountered before. “Oh no,” he said underneath his breath, realizing that Sloan must have been feeling the same way as him, if not worse.

“Just breathe,” he said, mindful of his breath. “Everything will be fine.”

“OK,” Sloan said, taking a deep breath.

“Three seconds in and one second out,” he said, with his doctor’s instincts kicking in.

“You have to inhale longer,” he demanded.

But Sloan couldn’t control her breathing. She had lost control of her thoughts.

“OK, maybe that isn’t working… I’m going to try to splash some water on my face.” He rushed into the bathroom, but didn’t discover the relief he was looking for. Now his body was aching too.

“Are you OK?” he asked, rushing back to check in with Sloan.

For some reason he had noticed that she had more hair on her face and arms. He turned away quickly, hoping that Sloan would not notice and freak out even more.

“No, I don’t like this. How much longer is this going to last?” she said, in a somewhat deeper voice than before.

“Soon babe,” he said, rubbing her sweaty hand.

“What do we do?” she asked, almost crying, realizing that she was helpless to her fear.

Derek thought deeply.

“I got it… let’s watch cartoons.”

“Yes, that’s a great idea.”

The credits rolled and the feeling was already unbearable.

“I can’t watch this. I can’t focus,” he complained.

Derek raced through his mind looking for solutions. The bowery cookies, he thought, must have been tainted. It was strange how the old lady gave him a big smile (much bigger than usual) after he purchased the cookies. Something was fishy and that old lady did something strange.

“Maybe we just need to go outside and get fresh air,” he suggested.

Afraid that he couldn’t handle the sight of people, he took Sloan up to the rooftop. As he stepped outside, he could feel all of the strength and energy evaporate, like steam disappearing into the vents after a hot shower.

“Let’s go the other way,” he said, as they encountered an older man sitting down on the chair and talking on the phone. “I can’t handle people right now.”

As they walked around the rooftop, his thoughts were becoming increasingly out of control. At first, he kept thinking that they would never bounce back. Sloan would never forgive him for putting her in this kind of frightening situation. Then, he realized that he was encountering the worst of Sloan’s fears- the same ones that he was aiming to protect her from. He took a long look over the four foot glass window and set his gaze upon the speedy cars passing. He caught himself staring over the balcony for too long. “We should go back inside.”

They took the elevator back down as Derek thought of ways to abandon that uncomfortable feeling. When he went back inside, he noticed Sloan’s nose had changed into something more impressed on her face and strangely it looked wet. They paced together back and forth in the studio. If someone were to walk in, then there would’ve been no way that they could have explained what was happening.

After he stopped pacing, Derek’s perception started to shift. His mind was existing outside of his body and he could access a part of his brain that he had never thought was possible. His heart battled with his chest faster than ever. He started feeling a shortness of breath and the bones in his body were in crippling pain, which was unusual for a young man. He wondered how he was going to break the bad news to his poor family, who were going to be devastated. He wondered about what the papers would say in the morning. He wondered how people would remember him, if at all. This couldn’t be real; I am too young to die like this, he thought.

He checked his phone obsessively, looking to match his symptoms. The answers were terrifying and he couldn't help but assume the worst.

“Babe, relax. It is going to be OK,” he said, blurting out the words unsteadily.

“I know, but how much longer?” she asked. Her voice was deeper than Derek ever remembered.

“Soon, just have to relax…re-lax. Stop being so stressed,” he said, as if he knew exactly what Sloan was feeling.

He checked his phone again, which didn’t help him feel better.

He thought of calling the operator, his brother, his mom, but they couldn’t do anything to help him. His mind shifted from the call and started worrying about the door. He couldn’t help but feel like someone was coming. Someone was walking slowly down Wall Street with a knife in hand and headed toward their apartment. He could hear the footsteps. Someone was going to wave to the doorman, hop in the elevator, and then knock the door down. This was the end, he thought.

“I think I have to call Candy,” he said, not sure of what else to do.

Candy answered right away which was unusual.

“Yo, wadup brother I was just going to call you the other day. What are you guys up to tonight?”

“Well, having a little bit of trouble at the moment. Freaking out a bit,” he said, fanning the center of his shirt and biting his tongue.

Candy didn’t understand the situation at first.

“I can’t stop breathing heavily. You know when you are running and you get exhausted?”

“Yes, I know that feeling.”

“Well, I feel like that, only that I can’t catch my breath. And my whole body is in pain.”

“Oh, it sounds like you are having a panic attack. You will be fine. I have dealt with these types of situations before- I know what it feels like.”

For the first time Derek started to feel normal again. There was some diagnosis to what he was going through. Yet he was still fanning his shirt aggressively and biting his tongue.

“You just have to remember that you are having a panic attack and that what you are experiencing is not real- it’s like a bad dream.”

Candy’s voice sounded distant like he was talking to Derek from a dream-world.

“Yes, you may just have to sleep it off. I had this one friend in college, who started having a panic attack. She was freaking out and wanted to call the cops, but I talked her out of it. I had to be direct with her and tell her that she was just having a panic attack and that she just needed to relax.”

Hearing the story about his friend didn’t help. Derek noticed that he was fanning his shirt much more than at any point in the night; it was the only relief he could find to stop his heart from battling his chest.

“Just stay calm and realize that it is not actually happening and that you are fine.”

After hanging up, even though Derek didn't feel tired at all, he forced himself to lay down, fighting off a case of the spins. As he lay, a strange fear popped into his head: he was worried that he would fall asleep and the cops would walk in and tell him to put his pants on so that they could question him.

Surprisingly, he pushed his fear aside and was able to rest easily. With Candy’s help he realized that he had to start focusing on his situation like it was a nightmare. The only difference was that instead of waking up to get out of the nightmare, he had to fall asleep.

When Derek woke up, there were no cops around and he was in a brand new world. He was sitting on the couch next to his new puppy, who was covered in golden curly hair and snoring softly. Slowly the puppy picked his head up and then, turned violently toward Derek. That’s not my dog, Derek thought, as he set his eyes on the puppy’s wicked purple eyes. That’s… That’s a… That can’t be possible-