The Final Excerpt

SAM ON THE GROUND. Blood on the street. A killer on the loose. My 

 stomach hurts. The sound of sirens piercing through the quiet night.

The sky is falling, the sky is falling—quick, run for cover. Too late. 

Splat. The people on the street flatten like pancakes. Pancakes? At a cafe.

Cafe? Sam worked at a coffee shop. Coffee shop? The key. Which key? What 

about the cell phone? Where did he go? The masked face. Owww, my stomach,

the wound from the gun shot has taken over. Silence. Then, a scream.
“Ah!” The terror filled my lungs, and I shook violently in my place. I was

strapped down to a hospital bed, unable to move except for my head, which

was shaking wildly from side to side. I felt dizzy and nauseous. The whole 

world was spinning, the room caving in on me. I felt my end creeping up.

“No, no, I can’t die,” I shouted out loud. “Don’t let me die, Sam, don’t let me 

die! No, no!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. My blood was boiling, my

face swelling, the rhythm of my heart pulsing to the sound of the machine— 

 puff, puff, puff. 

The machine? I have become a machine. 

The machine has taken over my 

 

life. How ironic! In a world of freedom and independence, my entire life is 

now dependent on a machine!

“Save me, save me!” I screamed even louder. No one was coming. I was 

alone, and I continued to be alone as I lost myself to the darkness. I could not

control myself any longer. In the light, bright room, my mind was going blank, 

 and I felt my body give itself over to the light.

Then peace—a slumber full of nightmares, Sam running after me with a 

knife. The cycle just never ends.

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