All the pain left my body as quickly as it had entered. I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. Darkness surrounded me and yet all I could see was light. Feeling my wound, I noticed the blood had stopped gushing out. My hand was completely dry. The wound wasn’t even there. If anything, it was a scar.
    My head felt dizzy as the light got brighter. I could hear voices. So many voices. There were too many to filter. They were quiet at first, barely noticeable. Then they started to crescendo. So many voices, so many things that needed to be said, to be heard. Suddenly I was enduring the most painful headache I had ever experienced. My brain seemed to be a million times larger then my head. The voices kept growing, kept crying out for a listener. I couldn’t listen, though. The pain so too bad and the noise was too much.
    As suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Releasing my head, I noticed that the voices had completely cut off. They were gone. Except one lone voice. A whisper. “Maddison? Maddison, can you hear me?” Following the noise, I found myself in a hospital room. The bed was occupied and there was a man standing beside it, crying. Walking around the man, I looked at the girl on the bed. She had a bandage on her stomach and, based on the way the blood looked, I guessed it was a bullet hole.
    The room faded out. The darkness returned along with the voices. They were excruciatingly painful. I fell onto my knees and clutched my head. Why wouldn’t they stop? What did I do to deserve this? I couldn’t help them. I wasn’t even able to save myself. Or the man at the bed.
    The voices cut out again and one voice remained. It was Maddison. It was me. My last words. I remembered saying them. I remembered whispering Ryan’s name. He was alone now. I don’t think I’ll ever be be at peace knowing that he had to sit by my bed and watch me die. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.