Blood drips down my face and covers me in a sticky coat of metallic red ooze. My chest heaves up and down as I struggle to get breaths of air in my lungs. In all of my seventeen years of life, I have never felt so much pain. My body lies sprawled out in the clearing with my gun wielding arm drapped uselessly over my shoulder. I moan in pain and struggle with my breathing again. I need to drag myself away from here before the men who tried to kill me come back to finish me off. There are three bullets in my arms, my legs have been sliced up by a car crash, and who knows what's wrong with my head.
   The little child stares at me with wide eyes and tilts her head. She's more confused than afraid, but as her blue eyes stare at the stolen black pistol in my hands she begins to back up. "Please," I beg her with my eyes, "help me." She takes a step back and clutches her raggedy Ann doll to her chest. She shakes her head at me and screams. I don't even see her run off. 
   I moan louder in the hope that someone will hear my anguished cries and come to my rescue. I wait for some reply, but the only thing that comes is the sharp caw of a black crow. I close my eyes and scream as loud as I can, knowing that nobody will hear me. I am going to bleed to death right here. All I have to do is wait for the final pint or so of my blood to rush out of me like water from a leaky faucet.
   "There mommy, that's the bad man. He's got a gun, daddy said that people who carry guns are bad." I open my eyes to see the little girl pointing down at me, still hugging the little doll against her chest nervously.
   The mother presses a hand to her mouth and looks away from my gruesome body to keep her stomach's contents from reappearing. "Ally, go inside and get the phone. You have to run now, run as fast Okay?" The girl is gone in a flash as her mother bends down to see how bad it is. "Sir, are you okay? What's your name? What happened to you?"
   I sigh in relief and loosen my grip on my gun. The mother reaches over my chest and grabs the pistol, still not trusting the sketchy looking teenage boy with a loaded gun. "I don't know exactly what happened, but ma'am it hurts real bad." I pause as I stop to remember my name. "I'm David, David Booth. Are you going to help me?" My words come out messed up and hardly recognizable, but I can only hope she understands.
   The little girl--Ally rushes back to her mother and presses a small flip-phone in her hands. The mother hurriedly dials three numbers and anxiously talks to the 911 operator. I don't catch most of her conversation I am just happy that soon I will be receiving life saving treatment and sanctuary from the men who are trying to kill me. I tune back into the real world and listen to the final words of her conversation. "-wanted, you're sure? Absolutely positive? Okay, I'll do it then. I'll tell him what you said."
   I furrow my eyebrows at her. "Is help coming?"
   She turns and points my gun at my forehead. She pulls back the hammer and fingers the trigger. "I'm sorry David but something's come up. Turns out there will be no help."