Cold Logic
Russell Brandon

Russell Brandon, a sophomore psychology major, wrote this paper for Dr. Grice’s Honors World Lit II class. Russell submitted this paper because he thought he did well and that it was fun to write. In the future, Russell plans to earn a doctorate in research psychology from some college…some day.

I awoke one morning after a strange dream to find that I could not feel my legs. Seeing as how I could not feel my legs, I tried to reach down in order to determine what had gone wrong with the lower half of my body. Unfortunately, I could no longer feel any appendages above my waist. This disturbing fact and the possibility that paralysis may soon become an integral part of my self-definition weighed heavily on my mind. I craned my neck to try and get a look at my rebellious lower body to find that my neck was not only more flexible, but also that, thankfully, I was not suffering from paralysis. Every appendage that existed below my neck was operational. Unfortunately for me, neither my arms nor my legs existed anymore. I was rather shocked by this fact and entertained the notion that perhaps this was all just a dream and I had eaten some bad beef the night before. I blinked once. I blinked again. Then I realized that I no longer had eyes, but rather clear membranes that did an effective job of moistening my eyelids. Sleeping with my eyes closed was out of the question if I was unable to blink them. Okay, this is all just a dream, you’ll wake up in a second and laugh this off when you do, I told myself. Minutes passed, and there was no change. There was no sudden lurch or even slight shift in position that usually accompanies the transition from the dreaming world to reality. I thought that perhaps I was having a waking dream and that I would slowly gain control of my body and regain my sense of reality. I forced myself to look down at my body. From what I could see, my legs and arms had disappeared without a trace, and the body that now lay underneath the covers was long and narrow. It led out from the covers and reached the floor. I could feel the cold tile of my room, and I knew then that the part of me that was touching the floor was better known as a tail. I felt somewhat colder than I had felt before going to sleep, and I realized that I felt much more exposed while lying on my back. I slowly rolled over and instantly felt better. My stomach was more sensitive than my back, and the softness of the sheets calmed me a bit. I thought about getting up, and before I knew what was happening, I was propelled forward by the muscles on my stomach. It felt as if a million tiny feet were carrying me as I moved. I slowly lowered my head onto the rug on the floor and began to coil my altered body so I could collect my thoughts. I knew two things:

I was not dreaming.

And I was a snake.

The realization came to me rather quickly that this was going to be a somewhat difficult situation, not only for me but also for those people that I cared about, namely. My family, my friends, and my cat Bart. I knew my family was most likely still asleep. Also that Bart had slept in my room that night. This meant that a black cat was sitting curled into a ball in the corner of my room, watching its former master slowly collect his thoughts after being turned into a snake. I knew that there was no way my beloved pet would recognize me, so I decided to have a staring contest. They say eyes are windows into the soul, so perhaps he would recognize me for who I really was. A sudden wave of cold washed over me as the air conditioner kicked on. Or was it me? I stared into Bart’s eyes and hoped that he would see me for who I really was. As I looked at him, the strangest set of images flashed through my mind.  I saw something similar to a dinner table with my entire family standing around it.  They had the most horrified looks on their faces as I sat salivating over a main course that I could not quite make out. It was not until I shook myself back to reality that I realized that I had moved even closer to Bart. We were almost eye-to-eye, and I instinctively flicked my tongue in and out, tasting the air. These new sensations were strange. I no longer felt that warm feeling I got when I saw Bart after a stressful day. I saw him as something else. As some mere useless piece of meat. I thought back to the dinner image. I saw all of my family looking at me with horrified faces. They were horrified at what I had become in the dream. This once caring and passionate young man no longer saw the beauty in life anymore. He just saw the world as prey to be squeezed and then devoured. I did not know what was going on, at least until my father walked into the room.

There I was, a large python staring down my favorite pet, when my father entered my room. I froze. I had no idea what I was going to do, but I had to let him know it was me. The last thing I wanted was for him to decide to grab the shovel and end my newly acquired life as a reptile. Here was the man who raised me, now unable to decide what to do about a snake gazing into the eyes of his son’s pet cat. He always hated cats. He saw them as more of a feminine pet. He never really said anything about it, but it was part of his whole opinion of me being soft. He thought I was too emotional about some of the decisions I made. He wanted me to be more logical about some of the choice I made in life. I guess you can’t get any more logical than a cold-blooded reptile. Their logic consists of eat or be eaten. Simple. To the point. Nothing emotional about that at all. So he gave me a long hard stare and simply said, “I wondered when you’d come around,” and left. At least I had pleased someone with my transformation. Now if only I could get Bart off my mind.

Usually when I was worried about something it had to do with someone else’s well being. Now the only thought in my head was what to do about Bart. But it was no longer simply how I could let him know I was me. It became a struggle to keep from letting my more selfish urges take over. I was quickly becoming more and more concerned with myself and how I could fulfill my inner desires. The part of me that wanted nothing more than to give my cat a hug was getting weaker and weaker by the minute. My mind began to wander as I pondered my unfortunate predicament. This drastic change from caring individual to cold killer was much too drastic for my tastes. Was this transition into cold logic worth the price of my humanity? Emotion may be the cause of lots of the pain in the world, but is it not also responsible for its beauty? I was suddenly pulled from my musings by a sudden scream. I snapped back to reality and realized that my mother was standing in the doorway. It was also at that moment that I realized that I had constricted around Bart and was slowly draining the life from him.

My mother’s scream brought my attention back to my lost humanity and my grip on Bart immediately loosened. I realized what I had done, and that my mother had never wanted it to happen in the first place. She always loved my sensitive side. She always loved to hear me sing. And here I was, a cold-blooded animal driven by the logic to survive. I thought that by removing that complicated part of me I could make life easier. But the scream made me realize that it only caused pain. True, I felt none of that pain, but it existed nonetheless. The weight of what I had inadvertently made myself settled on my mind. The decision I had made could not be undone, no matter how hard I tried. I would soon grow to accept my emotionless existence. I would learn to live with the fact that I had removed myself from any complications I may encounter throughout my life.

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