Hysteria

Chapter 2

I don't think Ollie knows or cares what I'm saying, he rolls over on his back against the tan couch. Pretty sure all he knows is that he's getting belly rubs now. I look at my watch after a good 5 minutes of non stop belly rubs for Ollie.
3:30, crap Ollie needs food.
"You hungry bud?"
It seems like on cue, our stomachs rumble as if they were crying out like a goblin "feed me feed me I crave fooooooooood". I laugh to myself when Ollie stares up at me confused a bit but definitely with his big hungry puppy dog eyes.
God he knows how to use those eyes.
"Come on Ol' let's get ya a snack."
And before I can even get off the couch, Ollie scales over the back of the couch like an Olympian on a long jump. I laugh to myself as I roll over the back of the couch, calling out to Ollie.
"Ollie wait up! That's it good boy, keep bein the goodest of boys ok?"
Ollie paws skids as he slides across the kitchen tile, trying to stop and obey me. His golden tail and ears flapping like a flag in the wind while he slides across the tile. While I use my fuzzy socks and slide across the tile. Knocking into the white cabinet next to Ollie's bowls, I swing open the cabinet door where many assortments of food and treats are for Ollie. My eyes dart over each colorful treat bag and box until I find the kibble that Ollie likes and eats the best. Ollie whines as he pads over to me, begging for food.
"Ollie stay, stay, stayyy,"
Ollie sits right where he is on the tile.
"Good boy."
I turn back to the cabinet. The blue and yellow look rather dull in the shadows of the cabinet, reaching for it and feeling the plastic rubber feeling in my hands as it scrunches under my grip. Ripping the bag open I pour the dry, brown kibble in Ollie's food bowl. Each one that lands in the bowl they clatter, practically teasing and taunting Ollie. Ollie's paws move up and down while he is resisting every cry for food in every one of his golden fibers.
"Wait Ollie,"
I keep a hand out towards Ollie signaling him to stay sitting as I skids over to the fridge. Opening the fridge, the light turns on and I feel the cold air of the fridge washing over me. There in a drawer lies a half full bag of hotdogs. I grab one and I can tell Ollie knows what I've got in my hand even with my back turned to him. The patting on the tile is becoming even faster and more frequent. I feel the cold hotdog in my fingers, I turn to face Ollie. Ollie's tail wagging faster than a hummingbird's wings.
"Good boy Ollie, keep sitting,"
I walk right up to Ollie, wagging the hotdog like Ollie's tail in his fingers.
"Stayyy, stayyy, good boy Ollie,"
I put the cold hotdog on Ollie's golden snout, Ollie stares up at it in excitement, I can practically feel the temptation pouring off of Ollie. My hand forms a three and starts to count down.
"3 . . ."
"2 . . ."
"1. . . Go!"
Ollie happily gobbles up the hotdog, licking his snout satisfied as he pitter padders over to his shiny, metallic bowl. Ollie chomps away at his bowl of dry kibble, feeling content and happy . . . and not as hungry as before. His tail wagging side to side in swift movements. Shimmying over to the cabinet, I pull out a purple bag of Spicy Sweet Chili Doritos.
The best kind.
I pour myself a bowl of the yellow chips, the smell of the seasoning filling the air. I sit at the table searching more about powers on his sleek, black phone while Ollie chomps away content with himself. Every article I finds sends chills through him.
Man burned to death, arsonist unknown.
Damn.
Missing woman's body finally turns up in ashes. Authorities say that their top suspect is a man called Calor.
Jesus, that's a way to go.
Family's home burned down with all still insi-
"NOPE!"
I throw the phone away from me, it slams against the wall before falling splat on the floor.
Crap.
Luckily it landed with the case side down.
That chunky case finally came in clutch.
Ollie jumps to his feet, whining from the yell, the dry kibble flying everywhere. Ollie's big brown eyes darting everywhere searching for the reason why I would yell like that. I hardly ever yell but when I do that's the kind of yell I do when Ollie's in trouble. My eyes soften at Ollie's reaction.
"Sorry bud, nothing's wrong."
I walk over and pet Ollie on the head, scrunching up his perfect golden fur, calming Ollie down a bit. Ollie whimpers looking up at me.
Poor guy is so confused.
"It's ok bud, go have your snack."
I give Ollie a little nudge, giving him one last scratch behind the ear before Ollie pitter padders away and back to his bowl. He continues to eat only this time his tail isn't wagging as fast as before. Just a small side to side sway. Reluctantly, I walk over to my phone, the back side facing up and reflecting the lights. I pick it up and turn it over in my hands and surprisingly not a single scratch. I huff, muttering under my breath.
"Huh, nice job phone case."
I shove the unscathed phone in my black sweatshirt pocket and walk back to the half empty bowl of chips. I finish the bowl of chips quickly, not wanting to open my phone and have to finish reading that article title. I stand up from the table leaving his bowl and begin to wander around the house, not really sure what I want to do. But almost magically, I unknowingly walk up to Ollie's toy bin and bump it with my feet. Ollie's favorite toy being that tug of war rope. The first time we played with it we ended up breaking a pair of my dad's glasses. Smirking, I pick it up and call out to Ollie. Hiding the toy behind my back, the rope is fraying in some spots picking my back a little.
"Ollieee, c'mer bud!"
I hear the faint pitter patter of Ollie's paws against the hardwood get louder and louder as he gets closer. Ollie walks up to him confused, still smirking. I show the toy in front of him and Ollie's whole face lights up again. His face has mischief written all over. Ollie might as well have been smirking when he grabbed one end of the red and blue rope with his snout. I hold onto my end of the rope tight, Ollie growls in excitement.
"Ready Ol?"
He growls even more in response and with that he starts tugging, his big brown eyes glittering with challenge. Laughing a little, I start to tug on the red and blue rope. Ollie keeps growling as he tugs harder and harder, while I mainly just hold on not wanting to hurt Ollie. He leans back when he tugs, the carpet might as well have swallowed Ollie's paws whole, he gives his head a shake. Ollie jumps back yanking me along with the rope, I stumble over my own feet a bit and almost falls over. I tries to steady himself but ends up falling over anyways, landing on my knees. I feel the soft carpet squish when I land on it, Ollie keeps tugging and growling. I hold the rope tight, the hanging strands poking my hand. I see the mischievous glint in Ollie's eyes right before Ollie yanks again. I make an attempt to lean back but fall flat on the carpet with a thud, grunting when my chin meets the carpet. Letting go of the frayed rope, I sit up and rub my chin laughing a bit when Ollie approaches me whimpering a little bit. Ollie goes right up to my face, drops the rope and says his sorry through licks all over my face. I scratch Ollie's head, trying to say I'm ok.
"I'm ok bud, but thank you,"
Ollie continues to lick my face, still feeling bad I'm guessing. And in return I continue to scratch Ollie's head.
"Ollie Ol-Ollie."
I put both hands on both sides of Ollie's head, Ollie stops licking.
"Thank you for those but I'm ok, see?"
I tilt my chin up to show I'm not hurt at all.
"I'm ok bud."
I give a smile when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I reach in to pull out my phone to find a text from Mom.
Mom: Take Ollie out on his walk please luv u sweetie.
Walk time Ollie. I looks up at Ollie, whose big brown eyes still look a little sad.
"Heyyyyy Olliieeeee, I think I got something that'll cheer ya up."
I say in a taunting voice, teasing Ollie a bit. Ollie stares at me now confused tilts his head to the side, his fluffy ear hanging like a flag.
"You wanna go outside Ollie? You wanna have some fun?"
Ollie's ears perk up and his whole face lights up, he may be a dog but I can see a smile on his face. I laugh a bit to myself as I roll over the back of the couch, shimmying over to the front door. I put on my shoes while my dog follows me while Ollie's tail wagging excitedly. I clip on Ollie's leash, feeling the blue slick strap in my hands, Ollie barks excitedly. Jumping back and leaning on his hind legs, he paws at the white front door. Gripping tight onto the leash I make sure that I have the house keys, his phone and inhaler before walking outside, laughing when Ollie barks impatiently.
"You ready?"
Ollie barks happily in response.
"Alright buddy let's go."
I open the white door and open it enough for both Ollie and I to get out. I take one step out when Ollie jumps out, quickly I lock the door behind me while Ollie tugs on the leash. The crisp autumn air washes over us both as Ollie stands so close to me, his tail wagging so much it lightly wacks my legs. I snort when I turn and Ollie must've seen me barely ready but he books it anyway, dragging me behind. Who is barely keeping up and stumbling over my feet, the cool fall air whipping Ollie's ears behind him like waving golden, fuzzy flags. I can feel his grip already loosening on the leash.
Jesus christ Ollie chill!
"Ollie slow up," I give the leash a slight tug but that only seems to give Ollie motivation to run faster.
Tugging even harder on the leash Ollie begins to bounce around the sidewalk, getting way too close to the road for I's comfort. With one swift bounce the leash yanks from my hand. The blue leash flaying and flying through the air as Ollie jumps around. Ollie unknowingly but with playful intentions bounces into the hot road, thinking it's a game.
"Ollie no! Ollie come back!" I yells desperately beckoning for his dog to come back to him.
Ollie whimpers, hearing the worry in my voice and he starts to pad his way back to me, thinking he was in trouble. He doesn't know why I'm so scared until a loud car horn rips through the air, sending chills down Ollie and I's body. Ollie hears the car horn and it freezes him to the core, stopping dead in his tracks. Ollie always seems to freeze when he gets scared and this just had to be the moment that Ollie froze. It seemed like as soon as he froze was when that red streak finally slammed the brakes. I keep desperately calling Ollie and that's when Ollie realizes that it's not a game, too late.
"OLLIE!!!!"
That dreadful sound just happened too late, there's a whine from Ollie right before the thud against the grill. My heart sinks to my stomach when the Toyota leaves hard black marks on the road. The driver's door opens and the man steps out, I stumble to the front of the car. Feeling terrified to see Ollie's body. It seems like the front door to every house in the suburban neighborhood opens, the neighbors walking out curious to all the noise. The neighbors murmur in confusion to each other.
"What's all the yelling?"
"Is that Danny, where's Oll-oh no,"
"Oh that poor kid."
The man puts his hand over his mouth and looks up to see me stumbling over, a dazed look on my face. The neighbors had made a crowd around Ollie and the car. My neighbors closest to the driver see me and try to keep me from my dog. Who does that?!
"Let me through!"
I shove through and when I see Ollie, I sink to my knees on the hot ground, gripping his blue leash tightly. Ollie lies there limp, those big brown eyes glazed with death, Ollie's front paw is bent a way it's not supposed to go.
No no no oh god please no.
"Oh kid, I'm so sorry, I-I-I didn't see him."
The man goes to put a hand on my shoulder but I shove it away, feeling tears well up in my eyes. Rage mixed in the cloud of sadness that threatens to swallow me whole, hearing what the man just said.
OH he did not just say that!
"What do you mean-YES YOU DID! YOU SAW HIM WHY ELSE WOULD YOU HAVE HONKED YOUR HORN!"
My voice cracking at how loud I was yelling. My head whips toward the man, my Dodgers hat falls from my head. I'm barely holding back tears now. The man just gives me what I think is a sympathetic look, doesn't change anything. I can hear the family friend, George, walk up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder.
"Oh Danny."
Recognizing the feeling and voice I don't shove George away. George crouches down to my level, leaving his hand on my shoulder so his arm wraps around the back of my black sweatshirt. He wears a pair of worn down work jeans and a long sleeve plaid button up shirt. His black, thinning, wispy hair combed in a way that covers his receding hairline, let's be honest it's nonexistent at this point. I lean into George, burying my face into his red and orange plaid shirt. Gripping tight, holding on for dear life. George puts his other hand on the back of my head, pretty sure to keep me from looking back at Ollie's mangled body. He rubs my heated back, his other hand scooping the Dodgers hat off of the hot black pavement. A wave of sorrow washes over the crowd, while the wave swallows me whole. Tears roll down my face and fall onto George's shirt no matter how much I fight them, no matter how much I will them to not to fall, they fall. George holds me in a tight hug. My heart feels like a chunk of it is missing, Ollie was my childhood dog and has been there with me through the highs and lows and now he's gone. Ollie was there for me when I got my wisdom teeth removed and had to stay home for two whole weeks for bed rest. And I was there for Ollie every time Ollie would go to the vet, shaking and whining the entire time. Gone in a flash like the streak of that stupid red car. My whole chest slowly begins to feel like it's caving in on itself, air being yanked from me like Ollie's precious life. My chest is already moving in fast, labored, ragged movements now in more extreme rising and falling motions. I wheeze, desperately gasping for air.
"Br-breathe," I barely croakes out between struggling breaths, panic beginning to rise in my voice.
George must've recognized the ragged, rushed breathing and panic in my voice, he recognizes the asthma attack. I've had asthma attacks ever since my dad died when I was 6.
"Danny where's your inhaler, come on bud just pull it out and I'll do the rest ok? Like we always do."
George loosens his hug and I pull out of the hug, George putting both hands on my shoulders, my trembling hands almost drop the inhaler. I pull the inhaler out of my pocket, the metal top reflecting the bright sun back at us. This time I actually do drop the inhaler, but George catches it before it can hit the hot black pavement. George gives it a shake before popping the blue cap off and putting the inhaler up to my chapped mouth. He presses down on the metallic top and I feel his lungs opening for the second time today.
Ollie . . . come back . . . 6 . . . 7. . . 8 . . . 9 . . . 10.
I let out a shaky breath. George flashes a sad smile wrapping his arms around me again, slipping his inhaler in my hands. I don't protest or shove off George at all. Slowly George starts to pull me away from Ollie's golden body stained red with his blood and his death glazed eyes, I squirm feeling George pulling me away. Holding tight onto my inhaler, I fight trying to stay with Ollie.
Dead or not Ollie is my dog and I'm supposed to take care of him and keep him safe . . . I failed Ollie! I can't leave him! My thoughts might as well be screaming at me.
"NO!"
George still is trying to pull me away, no matter how much I fight and yell.
"Danny-Dan-Danny please,"
"STOP IT!"
My voice cracks again.
"Danny-Daniel!"
George stops pulling and puts both hands on my shoulders again, I stop yelling and squirming. He sets one knee on the hot pavement so he's eye level to me again.
"I know this hurts kid-"
I try to look back at Ollie but George stops me, using his hand to hold my head in place.
"But you gotta go home, your mom will be home soon-wait"
George puts I's Dodgers hat on my head and turns away from me and to the driver.
"Towel."
The driver stares at him in confusion.
"What?"
"Towel in the car, do you have a towel?"
His voice is hard and firm while talking to the driver. Stammering and realizing what he means he opens his red car door. The car's paint is shining in the sun.
"Oh y-yeah sorry."
With a slam of the car door the driver emerges with a brown towel, a few parts of the towel are crusty and dried and others are stained with what looks like coffee or any kind of drink. Dead brown and red-ish leaves are also on the towel, if anything it looks almost coated with dirt. The crusted parts crunch when squished. The man tosses the towel at George, the dirt and leaves flying everywhere when it goes through the air. George catches it and turns to me, while the man tossed the towel I had pulled my black hood up and now wear a blank expression.