Panic Attack

Like stage fright, except on the city streets

Hyper aware of the death-marching feet

Hyper aware of your own perspiration

Hyper aware of your own condensation

You wish your heart would slow down

As you blindly navigate this neon-lit town

Where’s your car? Did you walk too far?

Did you park too close to the rowdy bar?

Deep breaths in and out, you’ve got this

And then insanity takes off like a rocket

Too many people with judgmental voices

Too many cars with horn-honking noises

A dark alley is better than any of this

A fast food restaurant would be bliss

A hotel lobby to stay for this one night

Until you overcome this crippling fright

Float in the pool, let the water calm you

Watch TV, whatever show you choose

Do you feel safe to go back outside?

Feel comfortable to lock up and hide?

A working day is around the corner

No days off, it’s what the boss orders

Pulling yourself together yet again

Is hard when comfort is easier to defend

Where are your pills? Back at your house?

Only one way to truly find the fuck out

Trapped in a cage like a common thief

Trapped in a mind with paranoid beliefs

Do you need a visit to the emergency room?

Or are you forever trapped in your own doom?

The phone is right there, pull it off the cradle

Put an end to this medieval Grim Dark fable

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

“I’m dying inside! It’s of utmost urgency!”

“I’m sending an ambulance to your location”

“Thank you for being good at your vocation”

Counting down the minutes and hours

Until you one day recharge your power

You never know when you’re coming back

Remember the name: it’s called a panic attack

Toy Trauma

Every careful step downstairs to the kitchen sent a thunderstorm of pain across Marty Hunt’s head. He held his temples and whined “Ouch!” the entire way down. It was a slow and laborious process, but reach the bottom floor he did. Wearing only plaid pajama pants and white socks, the pain-wracked father dragged himself over to the kitchen table and sat down with a quickness.

He leaned his head all the way back and breathed a sigh of relief. No more ouches, just a nice self-head massage with sinewy fingers. The coffee pot could wait a few more minutes. Marty wanted to milk this small moment of relaxation for all it was worth. He might have even fallen asleep at the table with his head in his arms if he wanted to.

“Morning, Dad!” yelled little five-year-old Kevin. The high pitch jolted Marty awake and the thunder and lightning in his brain was going batshit crazy. The single father rubbed his temples even harder while Kevin ran around the kitchen with his favorite action figure, the beefcake barbarian Deus Shadowheart.

“I’m going to eat your soul like a bowl of cereal!” yelled Kevin in his version of a manly barbarian growl. “I shall chew your flesh like bubblegum! And I shall drink your insides like Coca-Cola!” The little son shook the Deus Shadowheart action figure in front of his father’s face and roared some more.

“Please don’t do that to me this early in the morning, Kevin. It’s been a shitty couple of months with this divorce hearing. Cut Daddy some slack today,” said Marty as he continued to massage his temples.

“I shall enslave your people and force them to make bowls of Quaker Oatmeal for the rest of their lives!” said Kevin in his warrior growl.

“Is that what this is about? You want Quaker Oatmeal? Alright, I’ll get you a bowl…”

“Silence, peasant! You shall bring me a bowl of oatmeal and put extra brown sugar in it! Raaaaaaaaaaargh!” Kevin shook the action figure in his father’s face some more, causing him to clench his eyelids as tightly as he could. No matter how many times Marty rubbed his own temples, his head would always feel like it was under Deus’ mighty fur boots. The thought of his own brain popping out sent a shiver through his body.

“What’s the matter?! Do you not like that I am king of this wasteland? Too bad! I rule with an iron fist and a big bloody battleaxe!” yelled Kevin a la Deus. In between words, Marty kept pleading with him to shut up, but the overly energetic child said, “Bow to me and my big bloody battleaxe! You cannot win, mere mortal!”

“That’s it! I’ve had it with this shit! Give me that goddamn thing!” screamed Marty as he stood up and knocked his chair over. He and his son played tug of war over the mighty toy with the little guy screaming, “No!” repeatedly at the top of his lungs. The screeching voice to Marty was like having Deus’ meat cleaver go through his skull. He felt like his brain was a hand grenade ready to go off. His heart was pumping and thumping like a barbaric war drum.

In one harsh pull, Marty yanked the toy out of his son’s hands and yelled, “I don’t like this thing! And here’s what I’m going to do with this piece of shit!” Despite Kevin’s foot stomping and repeated “No!” screams, Marty ripped Deus Shadowheart’s arms and legs off before throwing the dismantled mess across the kitchen floor.

Kevin knelt down beside his toy and cried a tearful storm over the broken remains. Marty watched on with a sorrowful guilt over what he’d done, but remained strong in the face of having to discipline his son for his ballistic behavior. The father’s defenses were knocked down a few pegs when Kevin turned his tear and snot-covered face to him and said, “I want to go live with mommy! I hate you, Dad! I hate you!”

Headache and heartache were one in the same for Marty Hunt. Every pump of blood throughout his body made him groggy with depression, yet his face maintained its angry expression as a sign of strength against such powerful words. “You can’t go back to your mother, Kevin! We had a divorce and it’s been finalized! She cheated on me with another man! She cheated on us! She’s the one who’s tearing this family apart, not me!”

Kevin stood up and rushed over to his father to pound his tiny fists into his hairy stomach. “Stop it, Kevin, you’re hurting me! Knock it off, kid!” yelled Marty. The little spitfire wouldn’t listen. He pounded harder and harder until his father’s breath was completely drained from his system.

The old man collapsed to the ground and clutched his chest in pain. His breathing was raspy and shallow as he said, “Call 9-1-1, Kevin! Hurry!” When Kevin folded his arms and refused to move, Marty let down his authoritative guard in an act of desperation. “I’m sorry!” He wheezed. “I’ll buy you a new toy! You can have any one you want!”

As Marty’s vision was fading to black, he could hear his son’s voice shout “Daddy!” as well as little footsteps scurrying across the linoleum kitchen floor. Hopefully, those footsteps were on their way to the house phone to call an ambulance. Marty didn’t even know if Kevin was physically capable of making such a call. He lost hope as his breaths grew shorter and the peace he wanted at breakfast was finally obtained. Nothing but a dull gray screen clouded his vision. No tears, no angry words, no sorrowful thoughts, just the kind of grayness one could expect from an Emergency Alert System screen.

And then the father could feel his heart beating again. Little by little, the thumping and pumping was dominating his overly sensitive ears. His heart raced a little faster with each passing second. The gray screen before him became a field of blurry shapes and lights. He had a strange plastic mask over his face and the air pressure felt overwhelming to him. Soon the blurs and lights concentrated themselves into a clear picture. He was riding in the back of an ambulance with EMT’s by his side. Even more important to him was little Kevin staring down at him with a worried look on his chubby-cheeked face.

“Kevin…Kevin, dear god. I’m so sorry about this morning. I meant what I said about the toy. Come on, little guy, just give me another chance,” said Marty, his voice weak through the plastic mask.

Little Kevin Hunt held his father’s index finger in his tiny hands and said, “I don’t care about the toy. I just want my daddy back.”

Marty’s eyes began to well up with tears and his heart rate sped up. He cursed himself mentally for being “stupid” enough to not realize it was never about toys. He made enough money at work that he could buy the entire Hasbro catalogue if he wanted to, maybe even a few collector’s items. It was love that he failed to show at breakfast time, not finances. The whole divorce proceedings with his wife were all about who loved Kevin more and in the end, Marty ended up pounding the sides of his gurney in frustration that he became the world’s biggest hypocrite.

The EMT’s tried to pin Marty’s tight arms down in an attempt to slow his skyrocketing heart rate. It was Kevin’s voice yelling, “Daddy, don’t!” that finally subdued the hypocritical father. He collapsed into the gurney bed sobbing hysterically while his son hugged him around the waist. Hugging around the chest would have been ill-advised due to Marty’s heart condition.

“Hey, Kev…” said Marty with a little more conviction. “Have I told you lately that I loved you and that you’re the best son a father could ever have?”

“Do you mean it?” asked Kevin with dewy puppy dog eyes.

“Absolutely, little guy,” said Marty. “Me? I’m just a monster…” He took a while to catch his breath before he said, “I’m the monster who’s going to have the biggest battle with Deus Shadowheart this universe has ever seen!” His throat got more hoarse and villain-like, much to Kevin’s beaming delight. “I shall unleash hordes of minions upon the barbaric wasteland and I will burn everything to ashes! Nobody is safe, not even the big badass Deus Shadowheart!”

Father and son laughed together while hugging around the waist. In all of this legal mumbo-jumbo, the one thing all three members of the Hunt family forgot to do was laugh. How such a simple gesture could change a man’s heart rate and give his burning headaches a heavenly cure. Isn’t laughing and playing what action figures and families were all about? 

Cold and Scared

One month was all it took. One month of missed paychecks, lost sleep, hyper-vigilance, and moodiness was all Officer Casey Rasmussen needed to find what she needed to find…at least she was sure she did. This forest had to be the place. If not, then the baggy eyelids, messy hair, and hunched over tiredness would continue for another month. The trail might have been colder than the nighttime air by the time Casey checked out this lead.

The officer pulled her puffy coat over herself even tighter while shining a flashlight on the dirt trail. The foot prints were deep and fresh, which meant someone had been here recently. Another good sign was the distinct print pattern of someone wearing size thirteen sneakers. A tiny smile formed on Casey’s face as her teeth chattered and her breath became steamy. If these footprints went on forever, she would walk forever. This was too good of a lead to throw away those sleepless nights.

Just a powerful yawn and a few more steps later and Officer Rasmussen’s flashlight shone brightly in the face of a shivering twenty-something sitting against the tree with little to protect him from the cold other than tattered blue jeans and a ripped hooded sweatshirt. Size thirteen sneakers as well; it was definitely him. But what the hell was this young man doing with a dream-catcher in his shaking hands?

“Eric Bradley? My name is Officer Casey Rasmussen. I’m here to bring you back home to your mother. You’ve been gone for a whole month. She’s worried sick about you. Come on, let’s get you warmed up in the car.”

But as Casey approached the shaky and erratic manchild, he crawled backwards while holding the dream-catcher in her face like a priest with a crucifix. “Stay back! I don’t want to go back home! She’s evil! She poisons my food! She wants to make me into one of her zombies!”

The cop laid her weapons belt on the ground, a belt which contained a pistol, pepper spray, and a stun gun. While holding her hands up in surrender, she kicked the belt off to the side, but not too far out of sight. “I’m not here to hurt you, Eric. Your mother doesn’t want to hurt you either. You don’t mean those things. How long has it been since you’ve taken your schizophrenia medication?”

“Not long enough!” shouted Eric. A tense silence hung in the frigid night air, making chatters and shivers even more audible between the nervous cop and civilian. Even in pants-wetting fear, Eric held that dream-catcher like it was his own version of a pistol, ready to fire at a moment’s notice.

Casey tiptoed over to Eric, who crawled backwards just as slowly until the cop caught up with him and sat next to him against one of the trees. Mr. Bradley’s hostility soothed into calmness as he threw his dream-catcher to the side and gently rested his hooded head against the rough bark.

“That dream-catcher is special to you, isn’t it, Eric? Your mother told me that it’s your favorite thing to play with,” said Casey with a warm smile.

“Play with? Shit, this thing was supposed to do something for those goddamn voices. It’s supposed to heal me. Turns out it’s just a bunch of urban voodoo bullshit,” said Eric. He banged his head against the tree and breathed deeply and rapidly during his rant. “I just want them to shut up. Is it too much to ask? Why won’t they let me live in peace? High school is over. They’re all gone! Those stupid jocks are never coming back! Why do they keep talking to me?! Why do they keep calling me every fucking insult in the book?! Why are they laughing at me?!” Eric began pounding the dirt ground like a child having a fit.

The only reason he stopped was because Casey grabbing his hands snapped him out of that nightmarish trance. She looked sternly into his eyes and said, “Listen to me, Eric. That dream-catcher is not going to heal you, you’re right. Then again, neither will forgetting to take your pills or skipping your therapy sessions. You were doing great after you got out of high school. And then somewhere along the way, you…”

With tears in his eyes and snot in his nose, Eric interrupted, “I what? I blew it? Is that what you’re going to tell me? That I fucking blew it?!” He stood up and towered over the seated Casey, who had her hands raised defensively. He pointed harshly at her and ranted, “What do you know about me and what I’ve been through?! Are you some kind of shrink now?! Do you want to pick my brain?! Nobody’s picking my brain tonight! Keep your poisonous food and pills, because I see the world for what it really is: a shit-hole! A putrid…vile…evil…shit-hole! It’s fucking dystopia all over again!”

Casey decided this conversation was going nowhere fast and performed a double-leg takedown on Eric, who thrashed his arms and wailed like a baby. The cop advanced her position to his chest and held his arms straight in a bear hug. No matter how many times Eric yelled, “Let me go!” Casey continued to restrain her target with a firm grasp. Eric’s yells got more frantic and less intelligible, but he eventually gave up and broke down crying.

“It’s too late for me, Officer!” he sobbed. “I’ll never be the same again! I’ll never write poetry like I used to! I’ll never make money on my own! No woman will want to be with me after this! I’m useless! Damn it, I’m useless!” Casey shushed him a few times and the rabid crying defused to a gentle weep.

“You need help, Eric. This is not the way people are supposed to live. You can’t live out here in this forest on your own. How long has it been since you’ve eaten anything other than berries and nuts?” asked Officer Rasmussen in a gentle whisper.

“It’s better than choking down that poison my mom cooks,” said Eric.

Casey got off her target’s chest and sat on her knees in front of him. “You’re right about one thing: I don’t know what you’ve been through. I only know what your mother told me about you. I keep trying to talk to you, but you’re going off on different tangents and not making any sense. This needs to stop, Eric. Please, come with me. Not just for your mother’s sake, but for yours. Is this really how you want to live?”

A monstrous growl echoed across the scene and glowing animal eyes lingered in the background. Casey and Eric watched on in horror as the creature’s fangs came into the light. A thick coat of brown fur encased this savage forest warrior as the drooling wolf descended upon its victims. Casey and Eric slowly made it to their feet and tiptoed backwards to avoid aggravating the beast any further.

The wolf lunged at the pair with the intent to rip flesh and shatter bones. Casey pushed Eric out of the way and felt the wrath of this beast’s teeth sinking into her leg. She bled profusely as she stumbled over in an attempt to reach her weapons belt. The more she struggled, the tighter the wolf’s fangs latched onto her leg. But struggle she did. She clawed into the dirt and dragged her tired body across the ground. She was fingertips away from her belt, but the massive bleeding in her leg caused her to feel lightheaded. The weapons she needed were a blur to her and everything was fading to black.

And then the razor-sharp teeth in her leg released their grip as Eric let out a primal scream and palm struck the wolf in the nose, the most sensitive part of a dog’s body. The wolf ran away whining and moaning, but the bleeding in Casey’s leg created a flood around her body. Eric was pacing back and forth nervously biting his fingernails wondering what to do next. When the answers didn’t come to him, he dropped to his knees and let out yet another primal scream while pounding his forehead with his fists.

Despite the brutal wound, Casey found enough strength to sit up on her butt and contain Eric with another bear hug. With one arm wrapped around her target, she pressed the buttons on her walky-talky and said, “I need an ambulance to come down to Redwood Forest stat! Officer down and suspect Eric Bradley is having a breakdown! Over!”

The cop and the suspect breathed sighs of relief and plopped on their backs when there was a “Roger that!” on the other end of that transmission.

Eric sobbed softly and asked, “What’s going to happen to me now, Officer? Am I going to be locked up in a nut house? Wherever I’m going, I don’t want to be out here anymore. I hate this place! I hate it!”

Casey held Eric’s hand and said, “I’m not going to lie to you, Eric. You’ve endangered a lot of people with your behavior prior to coming to the forest. That’s why your mom called us. But after you saved my ass tonight, I’m going to make sure you get the best treatment you can possibly get. With any luck, you’ll go straight to the psychiatric hospital and you won’t have to do jail time.” She chuckled in a petrified manner and said, “Shit, man, I should have known punching the wolf in the nose would have gotten him off me. That’s the oldest trick in the book.”

Eric turned to Casey, smiled, and said, “Now who’s fucked up in the head?”

No Means No

Reading the same words over and over again drained the life out of Selena Gray and Jasmine Shelley’s eyes to where they could just fall asleep at the library. Every letter of their textbooks looked as dull and gray as rainy weather. They had been cramming this useless information for hours while hunched over their table drifting in and out of slumber.

“Jesus Christ, what time is it?” asked the dark-haired Selena with no life in her voice.

“Time to go to bed. This is ridiculous,” said the blond-haired Jasmine with a yawn punctuating her sentence. “I swear to god, if I don’t pass this test, I’m going to be pissed. I dumped way too much money into this damn college to just let it all go to waste.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” said Selena as she stretched out her arms and squinted.

When the two students stood up, pushed their chairs in, and stretched some more, Jasmine had a quizzical look on her face while walking toward the library window. “Do you hear that? There’s something going on outside. It’s like some yelling or something.” She thought about it some more and then her sleepy eyes widened to alertness. “Oh, no, no ,no, not this!”

Jasmine and Selena headed over to the window and cracked it open just a pinch. The boisterous voices outside belonged to the Sigma Alpha Alpha (ASS) Fraternity, all of them barrel-chested, all of them wearing red sweaters with their logo, and all of them holding a banner that emulated their chant. “No means yes! Yes means anal!”

“Oh my god…oh my god…” said Jasmine with tears in her eyes as she slid down the wall and parked her rump on the floor. She kept repeating herself while holding her head and rocking back and forth. When Selena knelt down to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, Jasmine finally said, “There’s a boy down there that I used to date. Max Tyler. He’s the one with the blond hair combed back. I can’t let him see me up here. We’ve got to get out of this fucking library!”

Selena hugged her friend around the head and said in a soothing voice, “Okay, calm down, we’ll get out of here. I think there’s a back exit in this library that leads to the woods. Once we get there, we’re hitting the ground running. Hell, I think our physics books called this velocity or some shit like that. Come on, let’s go.”

The two students stood up and left their books behind when they speed-walked their way to the back exit. Once they touched the door handle together, they stopped and took deep breaths in preparation for what came next. Selena asked, “Are you ready? One, two, three!”

On three the door burst open and the two female students bolted out to the woods at the highest velocity with no regard for their tiredness or physical wellbeing. If they had to drain every ounce of energy running through these woods, they would keep going until their feet were bleeding. They weaved throughout the trees and foliage and were already breathing heavily. Only a few seconds later, they were hunched over. Their tongues were aching and their ribs felt like they were on fire. But keep running they did.

In this mad sprint to nowhere in particular, there wasn’t much time to take in the dark surroundings. Because of that, Selena didn’t notice an oncoming deer when it got excited and kicked its hind legs into her stomach, driving the air from her body like a deflated balloon. After the deer ran off, Selena found herself on her knees trying to suck in as much air as she possibly could. She coughed violently while blood poured from her lips.

Jasmine rushed to her friend’s aid and knelt beside her with a light hug. “Are you okay? Do I need to call an ambulance?”

Once Selena was done coughing and puking up blood, she rolled over on her back holding her stomach and said, “What good is 9-1-1 going to do? There aren’t even any police watching those assholes at the college! What the hell’s going on here?” She pounded the ground in frustration, but that only sent a flood of pain through her stomach and caused her to heave more blood.

In the midst of this first aid excitement, Jasmine still managed to hear leaves crunching and twigs snapping under somebody’s boot. She immediately thought the worst and pulled her wounded friend as far away from the noises as possible. In her exhausted state, Jasmine still managed to find a hollow log to take temporary shelter in alongside Selena.

Once the two crawled inside, Jasmine placed a gentle finger on Selena’s lips and whispered, “You have to be quiet, there’s somebody out there. Try not to cough.” Selena couldn’t help it and let out a drop of blood before Jasmine shushed her again.

The leaves and sticks crunching grew louder and closer to the hollow log. A familiar male voice said in a singsong voice, “Oh, Jasmine. I know you’re out here. I can still hear you saying no from a mile away, babe. Well, you can say no all you want, but you know what no really means, right? Forget all that feminist bullshit for one night and just let me have some of that action!”

Jasmine felt her breathing getting heavy as the memories of dating Max Tyler flooded back to numb her mind. The vaginal groping in the movie theater. The breast grabbing in public. The smacks on the ass. The persistent requests for sex and the increased aggressiveness in Max’s voice each time Jasmine said no. Each of these frightening scenes made her wonder why she would even date such a caveman in the first place. Her heavy breathing became even heavier as anger mixed in with her anxiety. If it wasn’t for Selena giving a slight shush, Jasmine wouldn’t have put her own hand over her mouth.

“Oh, Jasmine-Pie, come out, come out wherever you are! If I don’t find you, my buds will. I didn’t like the idea of sharing you at first, but I could see it happening one day. I totally could!” Max’s combat boots were at the opening of the hollow log facing the left direction, a scene which almost made Jasmine gasp in fear. She resisted the urge yet again when she felt something furry crawling up her leg. No! It wouldn’t happen like this!

Jasmine petted the furry animal that was mounted on her leg and suffered a few blood-drawing bites on her finger. She didn’t scream as the little guy ran inside her hoodie pockets. In fact, she crawled out of the hollow log with him. “Jasmine, what are you doing?!” Selena whispered aggressively. “Get back here!”

Outside the log, Max was still strolling around the woods with a goofy grin on his face and his hands in his sweater pockets. “Come on, baby girl, give me a kiss!” he said while making lip smacking noises.

“Kiss this, you pervert! No means no!” shouted Jasmine. When Max turned around to face his ex-girlfriend, a squirrel jumped out of her hands and into his face, chewing his cheeks and nose with a voracious appetite. The frat boy backpedaled and screamed curses when he tried to pull the little munchkin off his face.

The squirrel was about to finish his delicious dessert and then it jumped off when Max tripped over another log and rolled down the hill. He crashed head first against one of the trees and was unconscious and bleeding almost instantly. He might have even been dead.

Jasmine breathed heavy sighs of relief as she knelt down on a pile of leaves and let the floodgates pour like rain. It was finally over. No truly meant no this time. Her moment of victory was ruined when she heard Selena cough up more blood as she crawled out of the hollow log. Jasmine rushed to her aid and petted her hair before saying, “It’s okay. We’re going to get you to the hospital. It’s all over.”

“Woo-hoo! Lesbian make-out scene, yeah!” shouted one of the male voices from the crowd. A whole group of frat boys dressed in sweaters and khakis were standing only a few feet away from where Jasmine and Selena were.

“Go away! Get out of here! Can’t you see she’s hurt!” shouted a sobbing Jasmine.

“Yeah, we know. You know who else is hurt? Max! I don’t see you doing anything for him! Maybe you should go down that hill and give him mouth-to-mouth!” said one of the frat boys before the whole group of them laughed like donkeys.

Selena managed to roll over onto her stomach and get on her hands and knees. In a raspy voice, she said, “Go to hell!” and then spit a wad of blood at one of the frat boy’s feet. That one guy formed an angry face and marched over to get his “free pussy” when he felt the world’s deadliest kick to the nuts. He crumpled over and spat up even more blood than Selena did.

The other frat boys began scurrying away when they saw that the same wild deer from before had reared its head again, kicking, bucking, and being a wild warrior in general. Jasmine got a good look at the deer’s face and saw that it was foaming at the mouth when it took a big bite out of the frat boy’s arm, causing him to squeal in pain.

The deer danced and flailed around some more before curling inward and flopping on the ground in death. Its foaming mouth was flooding with even more poison now that it was dead.

“Hey, Jasmine,” said Selena before coughing some more. “Remember how I said calling 9-1-1 would be useless? I may have lied a little bit. It maybe useless, it may not be. But it’s our only fucking hope.”

Jasmine tenderly held Selena’s head in her arms while dialing 9-1-1 on her smart phone. “Yeah, I need an ambulance to come out to Braxton Woods. My best friend was kicked by a deer.” She looked empathetically at the frat boy and Max Tyler before saying, “There are two other people who need medical attention too.”

“Just let them die, Jasmine!” shouted Selena.

“Shut up!” whispered Jasmine angrily. She talked back into the phone, “Oh, and one more thing. The deer died of rabies. Okay, thanks! Bye!” The stresses of the day caused the exhausted Jasmine Shelley to roll over on her back and gaze at the night sky. It wasn’t long before tiny raindrops pricked her skin, but she didn’t care. She never felt safer than in this moment of victory.

“We’re supposed to be better than those guys, Selena,” said Jasmine. “That’s why I included them in the ambulance call. Besides, if you really want them to learn what “no means no” stands for, wait until they go to prison!” Jasmine and Selena’s smiles were brighter than any full moon out this evening.