I had everything set up.
I poured enough cyanide on that sandwich to kill a large bear. There was no backing out this time. All of my previous attempts were behind me. This was my failsafe.
I decided to use the bathroom before I made my departure from this world. I wanted to at least be comfortable when I said my last goodbye.
Somehow, those thirty seconds I was gone ruined everything.
I walked into the dining room to find my old, scruffy, asshole dog on the table, smacking his lips, licking up the remnants of my final escape plan. He stared at me and barked once.
I felt all of my limbs lock up at once. My fourteen pound chihuahua had just consumed enough poison to kill fifty animals his size. I was surprised he made it more than a few seconds without dropping dead.
I don’t know if I was more upset about the fact that I had to live to see another day, or the fact that I had accidentally poisoned my only pet instead of myself, which ironically made me want to disappear even more.
There was no point in trying to get him to the vet. He was too small to have a single chance of surviving, and I live in the middle of the country, so the nearest sign of civilization is several miles down the road.
I basically had to sit there and wait for him to die. The suspense was absolutely shredding me, along with the guilt and the anger about the mistake I’d just made. Stupid dog. Stupid me.
The funny thing is, I was so sure of all of this. I was sure he wouldn’t last another ten minutes. I was sure that there wasn’t a single possibility of him seeing the sun rise again.
Somehow, I was wrong.
When I saw the little guy wandering around in the morning, I wondered if I was hallucinating. The living representation of my guilt was, impossibly, still around to haunt me.
As I continued staring at him, he started barking. I thought I wouldn’t have to hear another one of his shrill yelps again, but there he was, acting the same as he did every day before.
I poured him a bowl of food, sighed, walked into my room, and collapsed onto my bed. I was exhausted, mentally and physically. I felt too guilty to come up with another departure plan right away.
I heard him barking again less than a minute later. I waited for him to stop, but he didn’t. I cursed to myself a couple of times and went back into the living room.
He’d already eaten all of his food, and he looked at me expectantly, asking for more. I’ve never been the type to shower him with treats, so I wasn’t sure why he was being so greedy all of a sudden.
I tried to coax him outside, but he wouldn’t budge. I decided to pour him a bit more food, and I made sure his water was full. I didn’t have the energy to figure out what he wanted.
I didn’t even make it to my room before he started barking again. His food was gone. He wanted more. I didn’t know how he’d eaten it so fast, or why he was so hungry, but I wasn’t going to keep stuffing his face with food, so I returned to my room and plugged in my headphones on full volume.
When I stopped listening to music, it was completely silent in the room. No more barking. I sighed in contentment, until I noticed another noise.
Crunching. Was my dog eating something? Where was the sound coming from? He’d already finished his food. I furrowed my brow and walked into the living room.
Dog food was strewn everywhere. I cursed a few times, stepping around the trail of pellets, trying to find the stupid dog. I didn’t know what had gotten into him, or why he was still alive in the first place.
He’d ripped a hole in the bag of dog food and was gorging himself on it. I grumbled, pulling him out of it, picking up the bag and moving it into the closet.
He needed to go outside. I didn’t want to deal with him. I picked him up. For some reason, he felt significantly heavier than normal, and he almost looked…bigger? I could barely hold him for a few seconds before I dropped him again.
I shrugged it off and went about my day. Well, tried to. He was barking again a few hours later. I decided to feed him normally this time. He’d have an early dinner. I didn’t care. Hopefully he’d be satiated this time.
When he didn’t stop yapping, I decided to just leave the house and go over to my neighbor’s place. My dog had been acting awfully weird since he ate that sandwich, but I wasn’t about to put up with his barking or feed him a ridiculous amount of food.
I came home at around eleven at night, hoping the dog was asleep and I could go to bed myself. It was pitch black in the house, and I turned on the lights only to find an entire scene left for me.
There was a gaping hole in the closet door. I looked inside to find the bag of dog food completely empty. I looked around for any traces of the pellets, but there wasn’t a single crumb. I walked forward, turning on lights as I went.
I heard the noises next. Rustling, and heavy, labored breathing. I assumed someone was in my house, so I grabbed my pocket knife and moved through the room as slowly as possible.
I entered the kitchen. I don’t really know how to explain what I saw digging in the fridge, but I’m pretty sure it was my dog. He had grown to the size of a large bear, his fur was darker, and it was falling out in clumps.
He consumed everything in his path as he slowly emptied out every drawer. His sharp nails opened container after container, and he growled and snarled as he gorged himself on my food.
All of the cabinets were open. I just stood there and gawked, clutching my pocket knife tightly. He hadn’t noticed me. He searched through the kitchen again, and when he realized he had eaten everything, he turned around and looked at me.
I bolted. I knew I was next. I locked the door behind me. Before I could even get ten steps in, I heard banging on the door. He was going to break through it like he did the closet. I looked behind me. The wood was already splintering.
I continued running towards my car and frantically tried to open the door as I realized it was locked. I dug through my pockets, finding nothing but lint. I’d left my keys inside. I ran down the sidewalk, instinctively looking behind me every few seconds.
I heard a loud bang, and he was out. He’d broke through the door. The gargantuan creature began to sprint towards me, eyes glowing with greed, and I stopped looking behind me, trying to focus on running. It only took a couple of seconds before I was pinned to the ground. His claws dug into my legs.
Before he could latch onto my arm, I whipped around, readied my pocket knife, and stabbed him in the neck. I thought I did, at least. Somehow, I missed. And suddenly, he shrunk. Whatever creature he’d become slowly faded away as he returned to his normal size and color.
“Hey,” a voice called. I looked behind me. It was someone I didn’t recognize. I was still holding the knife, and my dog was sitting on my legs, panting.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” the man smiled.
“H-hey, wait, this isn’t what it looks like,” I managed to say, immediately regretting it. I quickly scrambled to my feet and closed my knife, shoving it back in my pocket.
“It’s okay, I saw everything.”
“Oh thank go-“
“I saw you try to stab him. You’re just an animal abuser. You should’ve eaten that sandwich. You deserved it.”
I stared at the stranger in horror, wondering how he knew about the sandwich, wondering why he was near me in the first place. He began to slowly approach me.
“Who are you?”
“Nobody. Here,” He dug a plastic-wrapped sandwich out of his pocket and threw it on the ground in front of me. “In case you need it.”
And he disappeared into the night.
I grabbed the sandwich instinctively and ran back into my house. My dog ran in after me. I was terrified he would turn into that creature again, but it seemed as if he had never changed in the first place.
I’m confused, distraught, and helpless, but I’ve been staring at that sandwich on the table for a while. My dog is still his same old self. He hasn’t been barking at all. I don’t know if he’ll stay like this, and I’m scared to sleep.
I’m having a weird sense of deja vu. Everything is laid out the same as it was to begin with, minus the holes in the doors, and the fact that I don’t have to pee. Maybe this is my chance to finally set things right. My chance to escape.
I have everything set up…