The attack came on suddenly, and it was quite possibly the most terrifying episode Inky had suffered since childhood. He was jolted awake early that morning, gasping and coughing. He scrambled over to his bedside drawer for his emergency inhaler; hoping it wouldn’t get any worse as he sucked in the medication.

     But his face had felt like it was on fire, in spite of the pervasive winter chill of his room. And he couldn’t breathe.

     Inky’s chest terrifyingly tighter than anything he was used to. He sat there on his dorm bed. Clenching the bed sheets weakly, sweating, his lips and fingernails an alarming shade of blue at that point. He waited no longer to dial 911 into his cell, it was getting worse, he was losing his strength to talk as his plea trailed off at the operator, “… cAn’T… bReAtHe.”

     Inky’s wheezing rapidly became silent as he felt like he was going to pass out. He still couldn’t breathe. He drowned in the minutes, as his vision began to tunnel and the overwhelming feeling of fatigue enveloped him.

     It felt like he was going to die. Suffocating.

     Drowning.

     Black out.

---

     It was just over three years ago and Inky loved him. Out for errands, early that December, holiday shopping. He said he would come right back home. The young man just laughed and teased him about what presents he had in store over the phone; joyful seasonal music from the stores eking through it that afternoon.

     Inky restlessly handled a catalog the local mall had sent them, finger in place on a certain type of clothing item. They had so enthusiastically dog-eared the thick book as soon as it had arrived.

     “It’s getting LaTe…” Inky stared at his alarm clock, it was getting past closing times, he checked.

     He was hesitant, however to believe anything was wrong, not wanting to let his imagination run too wild. He was probably just stuck in a traffic jam or distracted by the cute bowties surely on display or, or it must be those crazy lines in the mall. He’d be back at their dorm in a few hours… right?

     But with one vague and clipped and panicked goodbye message being sent to Inky’s voicemail, he knew something went wrong.

     Pacing around his room for at least another hour, he finally called the police. He nearly choked as he told the operator, “I n-need to report a m-MiSsInG person.”

---

     “… last seen at the Greenville Megamall… blue eyes… 6’… 20 years old… uncharacteristic absence… failed to get to work… family is extremely worried… report to the GPD if you have any leads.”

     Inky stared at the report he filed, his entire body shaking from the experience of trying to remain clearheaded when writing it up. Inky was staring at the photo he provided; it was a picture of them both that he cropped himself out of for the poster. They looked so blithe and oblivious in the original, he wearing his birthday gift around his neck, it was a summer afternoon. He struggled to write on the report just how much his dear friend really meant to him- probably more than his own family ever did. To Inky, it felt like the ground beneath him had started to crumble.

     He spent the following weeks straddling feelings of intense pain and emotional numbness. He ached terribly everywhere. It was amazing how he could even fall asleep, but then it had to have been the exhaustion.

     The trail was cooling down fast. With the stress and despair, he suffered a major attack, barely into the Spring Semester. He honestly didn’t know if he could still attend school, days after he was released from the hospital.

     “Hey, man… I heard what happened.” It was a student wearing a cast on his forearm.

     Inky was silent, unable to really respond.

     “I’ll, uh, keep my eyes peeled.”

     “Th-ThAnKs.”

---

     Inky dropped out before midterms came around.