Panic

He stands there quivering. His eyes are unfocused and his back legs crumbling beneath him. He looks at me and he whimpers. "But what do you want me to do," I beg. How could I make things better? He can't talk and he doesn't understand me. I don't know what to do. "Stop shaking will you?" I feel anger - resentment that we can't communicate is blazing in my mind, the fire glittering through my open eyes. I can't control the ringing. The ringing - incessant and unforgiving. I want it to stop too. It is ringing in my bones and my head aches. The door is locked and we can't get out. I know he wants to run. He wants to bolt and so I lunge forwards grabbing him in my arms. The smoke is coming now. I can smell it. In my nostrils - thick and concentrated - entering my lungs. I cough and shove him under my sweater. I need to find us a way out of here. I need to save him. I need to save myself.