Shattered Glass

Danny:

The only emotion I could feel was fear. Fear dancing through my veins as I remembered what happened last time I had been in, and survived a gun blast like this. It went on and on, as I hid under the lab table, anxious to hide from the bullets swirling past me and avoid the nasty cuts caused by bits of flying glass. It went on forever, but finally, as I knelt in a pile of broken glass, it stopped and I stumbled to my feet, desperate to find my wife and cousin in law, both who worked in the lab with me.
My breath left my throat as I saw her lying there, bleeding profusely, and laying on a patch of shattered glass, covered in her own blood. "Joanna!" I remember shouting, falling to my knees next to her body, ignoring the stinging from my knees on the glass. Her eyes barely flickered open, and I screamed for a medic, trying desperately to stop the blood flowing from the gash in her stomach and the severe cut running down the side of her head. After the paramedics came and at least attempted to stabilise her I had to take photos. I felt sick to the stomach as I shot a series of photos of her beautiful, yet disfigured body lying there in a pool of her own blood and broken glass. I had to find Lindsay, to find Mac, inform them of the horror, of Anna's injury, but I couldn't move from the room of horror; of broken glass and blood as they loaded on onto the stretcher and prepared to take her away. The paramedic said she was critical, and I screamed with frustration, and ran to find my wife.