I woke up to the sound of my name from the hallway. At first, I thought it was my parents. Then I realized that the voice was way too young to be my father or my mother.

It also came to my attention that the voice was extremely frantic.

"Isaac?" I whispered, sitting up in my white hospital bed. I winced in pain. My shoulder and leg burned.

Yeah, no kidding. I had just been shot twice. No big deal.

I heard my name again, this time fainter. "ISAAC!" I screamed as loud as I could. "ISAAC I'M HERE!"

Apparently he didn't hear me. My door didn't open so I laid back down and tried to shift myself so it wasn't too uncomfortable.

I stared at the ceiling for five minutes before I heard the doorknob click. I sat bolt upright in my bed, expecting Isaac to walk into the room and hug me like what happened in the movies.

Instead, my parents walked in, followed by a doctor and a police officer.

Wonderful. That's exactly what I needed to make my day, which, by the way, isn't going so well.

"Hi, honey." My mom said, walking up to my bed and stroking my hair like she used to when I was a kid. My father approached me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I smiled slightly at him and turned my attention to the police officer and the doctor.

"Is he dead?" I asked the officer, locking eyes with him.

He blinked at me, probably surprised that I could sound so determined when I had two bullet wounds in me.

Now, you're probably wondering why I asked that since I had only been shot in the shoulder; therefore having no reason to pass out.

Think again, Sherlock.

When the bullet hit my shoulder I could feel it in my leg, too. So naturally I collapsed.

WEAK.

Like hell, kid. You go get yourself shot twice and see if you hold out.

Basically, when I collapsed I hit my head and passed out.

What a way to leave the situation, huh?

I mean, admit it. "She Hit Her Head On The Ground!" does not sound nearly as heroic as "She Got Shot And Nearly Bled To Death On The Floor!"

I guess I should take what I can get.

The police officer pulled out his notepad and started reading off everything he had written down.

"Porcelain embedded in stomach...not dead...suspected terrorist...currently being treated-"

"WHAT!?" I screamed. The officer dropped his notes and the doctor almost fell over when he jumped back. Neither of my parents reacted. I'm guessing they knew me well enough to predict that I was about to scream.

"They're treating him!? Why the hell are they treating him!? He tried to kill Isaac and I!" I snapped.

The officer straightened himself up and slipped his notepad into his pocket. "Well, you see ma'am, he wasn't dead and the right thing to do was to treat him." He replied as stonily as he could.

"The right thing to do is to leave our damn school alone. The right thing to do is avoid shooting high school children with a pistol. The right thing to do is let him bleed out-" I began.

"Cecilia..." My father hissed, using his most dangerous tone. I shut my mouth.

"We understand your frustration Ms. Kee." The officer said. "But for now we'll treat him and offer him a trial."
"Why?"
"Because this is America. I can assure you, my dear, that we won't be letting this one off easy. We'll be calling you and your friend-"
"Isaac."
"-Isaac to court and you'll be defending your side of the story."
"Is there anything to defend?"
"If we're speaking about the United States Laws, then yes."

The officer turned and walked out of the room. "Thank you!" My mother called after him.

Silence fell in the room. After two minutes, when I could no longer bare it, I looked up at the doctor.

"Where's Isaac?" I asked him.

The doctor blinked at me. "He's...well..."
"If he's dead..."
"No, not at all. He's very much alive...in fact, I think he may be too alive."
"What's that supposed to mean?"

The doctor sighed. "Cecilia, Isaac ran out of his room looking for you. Our doctors caught him, but not before he could hurt himself."

"How badly did he hurt himself?" I whispered.

"Badly enough to land himself in surgery."