It was eleven at night, and Damien Thorndyke was driving down a moonlit stretch of road in Rhode Island. It was a pretty view, he thought. The ocean was on the driver side, and some beautiful country was outside his passenger window. A cool breeze blew through his blonde hair as he relaxed. He was visiting some family here, and had arrived yesterday from Milwaukee. A lady around his age suddenly hobbled out from the shrubbery. Damien stopped the car, noticing that she was holding the left side of her chest. Her sleeveless dress, fancy and blue, was stained red.
As she fell, Damien ran over, catching her.
"Honey," he said softly, shaking her gently. "Can you hear me?"
She gasped and nodded.
"Sweetie, my name's Damien. I saw you coming out of the bushes; can you tell me what happened?"
She gasped again. "She stabbed me but I escaped," she whimpered. "She stabbed me but I escaped..."
"You're gonna be okay," he whispered, checking her breathing. "I'll help you. Keep the pressure on it."
Another car screeched to a halt.
"Oh my God!" A woman cried. "Who is that? I think that's Taylor Swift!"
A girl appearing to be in college immediately whipped out her phone.
Damien noticed that Taylor's breathing was getting labored.
"I'm sorry," she said weakly.
"Shhhh... it's okay."
"I'm sorry to be so much trouble..."
"It's alright," said Damien softly, placing to fingers on her neck and feeling her weak pulse. "You're doing great, Taylor; can you look at me?"
She struggled to keep her eyes open, whimpering. "I'm... scared..."
"Shhh... I know, honey. Shhh... it's gonna be okay."
Taylor gasped as a trickle of blood ran out of her mouth.
"Taylor, look at me... I'm gonna help you breathe... okay?"
She nodded, and Damien tilted her head back, eliciting a gasp. Her breaths came easier, but still laboriously.
"Stay with me, honey." He placed his mouth over hers, breathing for her gently.
The girl, meanwhile, was now on her phone.
"Yes, he... yes, but barely, he's helping her breathe," she said worriedly but not panicking. "You..."
"Taylor...". He shook her. "Taylor!" He checked her neck again. "Shit...". Damien laid Taylor down gently. "Alright... here we go." He started compressing her chest. "Stay with me, stay with me..."
"Okay... you really need to hurry, he's doing CPR."
As he breathed for Taylor again, the woman ran over. "She can't be gone," she said, taking Taylor's limp hand.
"Oh no she isn't," Damien said determinedly as he compressed Taylor's chest again. "'Cause I'm not gonna let her go. Come on, Taylor, breathe!" He breathed for her again.
The girl ran over with a first aid kit, hurriedly compressing Taylor's wound.
"Thank you, hun. What's your name?"
"Gracie."
"Okay... Gracie, I need you to breathe for Taylor while I get her heart going."
She nodded, taking Taylor's face in her hand. "Taylor, talk to me...". She pressed her lips over Taylor's, breathing for her gently. "Taylor, please breathe!"
The sound of sirens could be heard, growing closer steadily.
As Damien kept compressing, Taylor coughed weakly, her eyes fluttering open.
"Thank... thank you," she gasped.
The paramedics walked over with a gurney.
"Good job... be gentle with her."
Damien gently lifted Taylor, placing her on the gurney.
She smiled weakly. "Thank you," she whispered. "V- visit me in... the hospital?"
"Yes, honey."
"We're taking her to Andrew Anderson. Come on, let's get to it."
Damien spent a good chunk of the night talking to the police about what he'd seen and done, then continued on his way to his uncle's large house.
This had been an eventful day.