Lyanna
I look at my ankle with panic in eyes. The blood is gushing faster than my trembling hands. My brain is blaring alarms, needle like sensations prick my chest. My eyes are only seeing red now, with blood seeping out of me.
"Aghh," I groan, clasping my mouth.
"Oh my gosh, I'm gonna die," a sob breaks out from my throat.
The blood isn't stopping, and a deep bone pain is seering throughout my veins. The fire in my ankle is enough for me to pass out.
I look at the wound that has been created in my leg. Worry, and an extra large doze of panic hits me again in the chest, making the burden heavier for me.
"Help," I whimper, hurriedly reaching for my phone in my handbag.
Tears pour down like torrents down my face, but I don't care. All I can think of is me dying even before my time.
I don't want to die yet! I haven't even had my first kiss, or proper make out sessions, I want kids too. I want a fulfilled life first!
