I slow down my racing thoughts and try to pick through to find relevant information when someone interrupts me.

"Oh my god! Is that a person?" I hear the splashing get nearer, but I can't bring myself to turn my head. A pale, scrawny, pimpled boy appears suddenly two inches from my face. I blink twice and he breathes a sigh of relief.

"You're not dead! That's good! But, um, why are you laying in my swamp of a backyard?" I grunt and try to speak, but no words come out. After clearing my throat I try again.

"I didn't mean to. My legs gave out while I was running." The skinny boy beams at me, a grin that almost made me smile. Almost. I take a deep breath and start to sit up. The muscles that weren't even used hurt in sympathy. Groaning, I let myself fall back down. Nothing's broken, just sore. My companion's face scrunches up with worry.

"Here," he says while holding out a hand. I glance at his offer and start to move my arm. I might as well be cutting sand. The boy leans down and grabs my hand. I take a sharp inhale at the sudden action. He digs his tattered shoes unsuccessfully into the growing mud pit. At this attempt, I muster up the last of my energy and adrenaline to give him a boost. Finally, on my feet, I start to wobble. The kind teen leverages his body against mine, wrapping his arms around my weak body. I'm embarrassed to need his assistance, but I'd still be lying in the mud without him.