5
When I drove up my driveway, I was hit with impending doom. My muscles tensed at its manifestation … Kane. He was home? I dashed out and into the house, and the feeling grew worse.
“Kane! Where are you, Kane?” I was a blur going from room to room scouring for any sign of him until I entered the kitchen and found the back door open, large stains of bright red blood on the wood and frame. I touched the door with my finger and immediately got a picture. He was hurt, lying somewhere dark, his breathing shallow. I felt distant from him like he was fading. My eyes flew open. “He’s dying!”
I saw no tracks, just blood here and there, so I followed. The trail led me to an empty cornfield, and way out in the middle of it was a lump. I reached him in seconds. As expected he was hurt, bleeding, a
