He was sitting with his back to a great tree, as if he was resting. But Aragorn saw that he was pierced with many black-feathered arrows; his sword was still in his hand, but it was broken near the hilt; his horn cloven in two was at his side. Many Orcs lay slain, piled all about him and at his feet. Aragorn knelt beside him. Boromir opened his eyes and strove to speak. At last slow words came.

"I tried to take the Ring from Frodo." he said. "I am sorry. I have paid."

His glance strayed to his fallen enemies; twenty at least lay there.

"They have gone: the Halflings: the Orcs have taken them. I think they are not dead. Orcs bound them."

He paused and his eyes closed wearily. After a moment he spoke again.

"Farewell, Aragorn! Go to Minas Tirith and save my people! I have failed."

"No!" said Aragorn, taking his hand and kissing his brow. "You have conquered. Few have gained such a victory. Be at peace! Minas Tirith shall not fall!" Boromir smiled.

"Which way did they go? Was Frodo there?" said Aragorn. But Boromir did not speak again.

"Denise! Denise, dinner is ready!" Denise snapped out of her trance, as her mother called her from the kitchen. It was easy for her to become so wrapped up in the beauty that was Middle-earth, that it actually was not too difficult for her to mentally place herself there, totally drowning out anything that was going on in the background.

"I'm coming, Mom!" Denise closed the book, and placed it on the coffee table, hoping to get back to the story as soon as possible. The faster she gobbled down her mother's home made split pea soup, the faster she would get back to the Two Towers.

. Discussion at the dinner table was surprisingly lacking that night. Denise's younger sister was having dinner at her friend's house, and her little brother had some sort of sports event –something that she knew absolutely nothing about. Sports never interested her, and she hardly made it her business to find out.

"Denise, would you mind doing me a favor after dinner?" her mother said, collecting her napkin and placing it on her empty plate. Denise dreaded what her mother was about to say. It was probably going to be something along the lines of picking up one of her siblings; something that she definitely did not want to do. It was Saturday night and as a senior in high school, Denise just wanted some peace and quiet, and the ability to relax.

"Yeah, sure. What is it?"

"Marie needs to be picked up from her friend's house. She asked to spend the night, but she has a big project due on Monday that needs to be completed, so I told her she couldn't stay. I want you to pick her up while I go and collect your brother." Her mother paused thoughtfully for a moment, but then smiled and chuckled. "Keep in mind that Marie will be…pouty. But be patient—you should be able to remember how it is to be denied a sleepover at your friend's house."

Denise mentally rolled her eyes, but gave her mom a smile. She loved her mother and certainly did not mind running errands for her. The grocery store? Not a problem. The bank? A piece of cake. But being the chauffer for her siblings was more than she could bear.

Nevertheless, she finished her meal, loaded her plate into the dishwasher, and then proceeded to her broken down, used Chevy, which had been her 18th birthday present. It had over one hundred thousand miles on it, and was not the most reliable of vehicles. Denise was still thrilled with it, though. It was her baby, and as far as she was concerned, a box with wheels was better than walking.

Rain began pouring down as she drove. As each block passed by, and she became further and further away from home, the rain just seemed pound down harder.

"Come on, baby. You can make it." Talking to her car was something that Denise had taken to doing. The flow was so heavy that even the wind shield wipers could not completely clear her view, making her very nervous. As she waited at the red light, she daydreamed about curling up in bed, with the Two Towers in hand. At least she would have the rest of the night to relax.

As the stop light turned green, she pressed her foot onto the accelerator and headed for the intersection. Before she could react, a car coming from her left sped through the red light and slammed hard into the driver's side.

The wind had been knocked out of Denise. She felt so much pain so suddenly, that she did not know what to do about it. She could not even scream. The image and sensation of blood trickling down her entire left side did not even register with her at first. All she could think about was her mother. And the pain. The pain was so intense. Breathtaking; but not in the way beautiful scenery is breathtaking. Her breath had actually been taken, and her breathing had been reduced to short, painful gasps of air. Blood streamed down her face and into her eyes, stinging them. She could also taste it in her mouth and gagged on it.

But her mother. What would her mother say if she did not survive this? That is what worried her the most. Denise had become her mother's right arm after her father left the family when she was only thirteen. She could not bear to think about leaving her mother all alone.

And death was certainly something that was ever present in her mind, as the pain grew more and more intense, and she began slipping in and out of consciousness. She noticed police cars and an ambulance pulling up outside of her car, and that was the moment when the true damage that had been done finally hit her. Denise whimpered, and a single tear trickled down her cheek as she looked at the paramedics outside of her car, desperately trying to pry her car open in order to get to her.

But Denise suddenly became weak, and her eyes began to blur worse than ever. No matter how hard she fought for her sight, it was useless. She finally let go, and just stared straight ahead at the shattered windshield. The sounds of paramedics and police officers working to break into her car became fainter, as she began to slip out of consciousness. But this time, she did not come out of it.

All went black.