Anya slowly crept over to him. On closer inspection, she could see his chest rising and falling with each breath he took. Anya let out a sigh of relief.
He wasn't dead.
Anya immediately went to work.
She gently laid him out and surveyed the damage. Then she dragged the heavy bucket over, dipped the edge of her shirt in the dirty water, and began to clean him up. Once Kendall was as clean as he could be under the circumstances, Anya took his shirt and solemnly ripped it into strips. As soon as she had him all bandaged up she began to gently bathe his head with the dirty water, hoping to revive him.
Kendall was miles away in a familiar house, located on Walnut Street. His sister was in her room, no doubt brainstorming ideas for yet another money-making scheme. His mom was in the kitchen, making them an after-hockey snack. And Kendall? He was sitting on his couch along with his three best friends.
"Carlos, you have to stop wearing it at some point."
"No I don't."
"Yes you do."
"No I don't."
"Yes you do."
"You're a big meanie!"
"Me? You're the one that pantsed me in third grade!"
"Boys!" Mrs. Knight came in from the kitchen, her hands on her hips, "Enough! Logan, if Carlos wants to wear his helmet, he can. Carlos, no name calling." And she went back into the kitchen.
"Do you think I should grow my hair out?" James asked from Kendall's left, his eyes glued to his beloved mirror.
"James, your hair already is grown out," Logan said with a very clear "you're stupid" look on his face.
"No, I mean down to my shoulders, so it'll flow behind me when I ride a horse."
"James, you don't ride a horse."
"And besides, your hair will just get in the way of hockey."
"Hockey and corn dogs, that's all you ever think about."
"And my helmet. Don't forget my helmet."
Kendall chuckled at his friends' bickering. He was surrounded by his friends and family. He had no worries in the world.
He was happy.
Kendall opened his eyes. Dream shattered, he looked around, trying to figure out what was going on.
"Shhh," he heard, "Don't move."
Kendall struggled to sit up. Pain shot through his body, causing him to clutch his chest. A groan involuntarily escaped his lips.
He felt himself being guided back down. "Don't move."
Kendall closed his eyes as the pain faded away. He felt something cool and wet on his skin. Once the pain had reduced to a dull ache, he opened his eyes again to figure out what it was.
Kendall looked in confusion from Anya to the hand that caressed the side of his face. He soon realized that they were one and the same.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
Anya froze. "Do you want me to stop?" she asked.
"No, I want to know what you're doing." He tried once more to sit up again, fighting through the pain. Anya helped him over to the wall so he had something to lean against.
"What happened? Why am I back here?" Kendall asked once the pain had subsided.
"Ethan hurt you," Anya told him, her hands beginning to shake. It was all the more real now that he was awake.
"I'm ok now," he assured her.
"No you're not!" Anya burst out, tears falling down her face, "You're not ok! Look at you! You're still bleeding! You can't move without hurting!" Sobs begana to wrack her small body as she continued in mere whisper, "You're not ok."
Kendall pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms protectivly around her, as he let her cry. There was nothing he could say that would make it better. She was right. He wasn't ok.
He could feel blood trickle down the side of his face and all over his torso. Every inch of his body ached in a way that it never had before. Even the most brutal hockey practice was nothing compared to this. Kendall felt pain in places that he didn't even know existed.
"I want to go home."
Kendall looked sharply at the girl in his arms. She had spoken in a voice that he had never heard from her before. It was serious, full of determination and void of even the slightest trace of fear that had been known to permeate her entire being.
"Give me three days," Kendall said with equal determination. They were getting out of there and nobody was going to stop them.
