I don't know how long he left me for, but when I woke up, the smell of pie had vanished from Watershed Heights and the lights had come back on. They were so bright I could barely see, the pounding in my head too much to bear. I kept thinking the Lord would come down and rescue me, but instead I could hear someone scream "Clarissa!" and the thumping of running feet got louder and louder on the pavement as she got closer. "What happened?" she asked. I tried to answer, but nothing came out of my mouth but mangled words and gargled sound. All I could say was "Oww, help." Although the call for help wasn't necessary. The woman screamed for more assistance, and two men came over to me, one calling 911 and the other assessing my wounds. The poking and prodding was truly awful, like being categorized as some sort of... well, as something other than a person and more like a situation.
"Homer." That's all I could get out. Over and over, I just kept saying "Homer. Homer. Homer." More lights came, but these ones were the red flashing of an ambulance, the siren piercing my already fragile ears. More people came over, more poking and prodding, and they loaded me up and took me away.