The squirrel

Roger felt the pain in his chest rising. It had only been moments before he had collapsed, his heart beating irregularly in his chest and filling him with a sharp and inconsistent pain. The pain sent him toppling over, his face smashing into the ground as his legs ceased supporting him. It flashed briefly in the back of his mind that he was a having heart attack. Unfortunately, there was nothing that he could do about it. He had rejected the idea of carrying something so silly as an emergency bracelet. He had a phone after all. But now that he was being struck by it, he couldn't manage to move enough to actually reach it, much less dial 911.

Somewhere behind the pain, he wondered what would happen to him. He wondered how long it would take for him to die. His vision blurred as he fell on his side. It was late at night, as he had been going for a stroll in the cool night breeze, so there was hardly anyone around. In the distance he could see the vague outlines of people far away on their own walks, and a few animals making their either back to their homes for the night, or heading out after having just woken up from their daytime sleeping.

He had lived a long and happy life, so he could hardly complain about that. He had raised a family, given them a good home and a stable future. He had experienced a large number of things, some good and some bad, but none that he regretted. He had loved his wife with all of his heart, and he supposed that now he would be able to meet her once more after her death only a few short years prior. Though he was sad that he would not be able to say goodbye to the family that he had, at least he might have a chance to see her again.

Roger closed his eyes as his body raked and lurched with the pain he was feeling. He rolled onto his back, trying to ease the contortions and motions of his body, to no avail. He heard the muttering of a small creature as it drew near to him. It was a somehow peaceful noise in these painful moments. Or at least it was, until it grew louder, practically in his ear. The loud squeakings of a squirrel rattled off like gun shots in his skull before an abrupt and concentrated pounding slammed into his chest, right over his heart. The sensation snapped his eyes open.

The very squirrel that had been making such loud noise, almost like screaming in his ear, was leaping over and over on his chest, as if mimicking the motions of CPR on him. He must have been hallucinating from the pain. There was no way that a squirrel could be attempting to save his life.

He tried to focus on the squirrel, thinking that perhaps he would be able to determine what the true form of whatever the pounding on his chest may be. But the more he focused, only the more clearly could he see the squirrel on his chest. It was larger than most squirrels, with aged looking fur, and a long, semi-flattened tail. He thought how funny it seemed that this squirrel seemed to mirror him. Old and pained, but wanting to do something for the pained ones around him.

As his eyes began to close once again, Roger's chest felt as though it lurched suddenly in response to one of the leap's of the squirrel, and the sudden recurrence of a steady beating of his heart jolted his body, throwing his eyes open once more so that he could see the squirrel go tumbling off of him. Slowly Roger sat up and turned to look at the squirrel, seeing it roll back onto its feet and look directly back at him. It made a chirping like noise toward him before running off.

Roger rubbed his chest, the pain still there but no longer overwhelming him. The idea of squirrel saving his life confounded him to no end. As he managed to get back to his feet and head home, he tried to think of what could have possibly lead to such a strange event.

He was halfway home when he thought of the number of times that he had swerved to avoid hitting a squirrel. The flattened tail could suggest one that he had only barely managed to save. He laughed at the thought that it had somehow remembered him, and come back to save him in return. He couldn't believe he was even entertaining the thought.

And yet...