He listened. The only companion he had now was the faint heartbeat in his chest.
He looked. The only thing he saw was the back of his eyelids, his eyes tightly shut. It was as if they were welded closed, and he could not open them now even if he wanted to.
He felt. He could no longer tell where his body was, but one side of it was pushed tightly against a hard surface. A warm, thick liquid seemed to be all over him, and it felt nice.
He tasted. He tasted and it was him. He tasted sweet.
He inhaled. He could smell cool air…cool air drifting up his nostrils, into the centre of his fading brain. Far, far away was a distant smell of food.

Further, further, much further away there was a scream. His shoulders were hoisted off the floor.
“…stupid, stupid, bastard!”
A new sensation, warm droplets of water dropping onto his cheeks, soft hands caressing his head. A tight, frantic grip across his shoulders.
“…help…get help…hurry!”

Head being cradled off the ground. Face pressed tightly against warm body. Pretty, familiar voice in his ear. Pretty, familiar voice, broken off by tortured sob at intervals. Gushes in arms being held together by slender, desperate fingers.

He felt. The warm, thick liquid was now suffocating him, choking him. Stifling, overheating. He needed to get out of here…the girl who held him, he needed to go with her.

Too late.

Too much noise. Clatter, crash. Yells, instructions, crying. Strange voices, rough hands. Suddenly, he was lifted. And he was rising, moving through the air. Fear.

Where was soft hands? He gripped at something. She gripped back. Thank God.

He had nearly lost her.