Idea... good bad???

A shotgun rang out in the distance.

"Nick?" I asked. No reply. I looked at the game in my hand. Tyrell, my husky, barked.

"Nick?!" I asked again, fear arising in my voice. No reply. And then I remembered: Nick didn't have a gun. He had a knife. What fool goes hunting without a gun? I thought so many times.

But Nick didn't have a gun! Who else was out here?

I felt my legs pounding against the earthy ground. Where was Nick? Where was he? My mind raced; every knowledge in my mind dissapeared. Why were there so many trees? Why was there a dog behind me? Why was I here.

I remembered everything when I came to Nick's body.

"Nick!" I screamed. Tyrell whined and wen't to lick Nick's face. Tears escaped my eyes. I fell to my knees.

This couldn't be true! It was too much to be true.

It felt like one of those movies.

After that, all I remembered was reaching my house. Somehow. Once in my house, I bawled over Nick. Dad walked out from the kitchen and stepped back in surprise.

I felt so small... smaller than normal. Smaller than my petite, 18 year old self.

I could make out Dad's sobs. Oh well. Nothing mattered anymore.