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I woke up on a stranger's couch. The room was peaceful, and medium sized television was turned on at a low volume.

"He's awake," I heard a woman's voice say.

I sat up, disorientated. "Where am I?"

"You passed out on our front yard, son," the man from before said.

So he was real.

"What time is it? What day is it?"

"You were out all night, and through half the day. We were getting worried about you."

I closed my eyes, exhausted by what had happened the past few days. Was it, then, Saturday? The days just melded together when food and sleep were barely caught. It seemed to me that Death was playing a cruel game with me.

I tried to open my eyes, fighting through the heavy lids. I had to thank my saviors, even if I hadn't asked to be saved.

"Thank you. Thank you so, so much."

I took a breath in, and it pained me so bad that it brought tears to my eyes.

"Are you okay, son? Do you need to be taken to the hospital?"

Darkness was swallowing the world whole. The pain roared, and then numbed so rapidly that the force of it knocked my fragile defenses down, and the darkness swallowed me too.