Chapter XI

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"Hayden?"

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"Hayden?"

"Hayden come on!"

"Hayden?"

"Dylan she's not waking up what the fuck am I gonna do?"

Sight isn't one of my senses. What normal people call sight, I have to call a blurry fog. I can't divorce anything.

My leg feels like as if someone's forcing a piece of burning coal through it. It's awful, but because of the lack of oxygen and energy, I can't scream my pain out.

The flames are still trying to grasp me, but for some reason, they fail. They heat up my body for a brief second, but then they're replaced by new flames.

I manage to open my eyes a few times, but they're forced shut the very next second. The weight of the pain, the heat, and my struggling lungs smake everything, even the small difference between open and closed eyes, feel like the hardest thing to do.

"I got him."

"Her leg."

"Fuck!"

I can't match the right voice with the right face, and that's the least of my worries in my current state. Everything is spinning, even with my eyes closed.

I don't feel the ground below me at all. I feel like I'm hovering in the air, but I'm not. The few seconds I manage to control my consciousness, I can part hovering from being carried.

Carried.

I'm being carried.

I'm being held up by someone's arms.

God no.

I'm hit by the cold air and screaming before I'm thrown at the ground, causing the hovering feeling to disappear completely. Even though I know from the distance that I was put down carefully, I still feel like I've been dropped from the top floor of a skyscraper.

The oxygen comes back and the heat disappears, but I still don't manage to take proper breaths. Actually, it feels like I didn't even leave the burning house at all.

My consciousness comes back, making me feel like the fog covering my field of view will be gone if I open my eyes, but the second I'm about to open them, everything disappears. Sight, hearing, smell, touch, taste, the ability to breath, and all is replaced by a heart that hits the roof when something is placed on my lips.

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