by Eric Fauble

Created on: September 27, 2009

Danny took a walk through the park near his house. It was a warm spring day. Flowers were blooming, birds were chirping. Everything in Danny's eyes seemed to be perfect. He believed that nothing could make this day go wrong. He was happy, for the first time in a while. His life was on track. He was himself again, after five years dealing with methamphetamine and others with the same problem. Danny was healthy. As healthy as a horse.

But there was always something that was stuck in the back of his twenty-two-year-old mind; his old friend Steve. They grew up together. They were the best of friends, even with Danny's addiction to methamphetamine. Steve stuck by his side, talked Danny out of. But Danny hated himself for never seeing Steve after that day.

A few months back, Danny walked home, happy like he was at that moment. He walked through the front door, set his keys on the coffee table, and grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator in the kitchen. He knew Steve had been a police officer since they both turned nineteen, but Danny was never expecting what was bound to happen.

Danny sat down in his favorite chair of his house, set his feet up, and turned on the television set. He flipped through the channels, stopping at his favorite news channel. The usual stuff was on; kidnappings, the war over in Afghanistan, Democrats versus Republicans. He yawned loudly, closing his eyes in his favorite chair.

"Earlier this morning," the anchorman said in his usual business-like voice, "a police officer was shot five times." Instantly, Danny jerked up, now staring into the television. "Steve McGollenberger was in the middle of a drug raid when the suspect fired a handgun. Officer McGollenberger was shot twice in the back, once in the head, and twice in the stomach. He was taken to the nearby hospital, where he is currently in critical condition."

Danny jumped to his feet. He threw on his shoes, grabbed his car keys, and ran out of the house. He sped down the road, going one hundred on a sixty-five road. He had to see his dying friend. He had to say goodbye. He had to say he was sorry. Danny's eyes filled with tears at the thought of losing his only true friend.

He rushed into the hospital. "I need to see Danny McGollenberger," he demanded.

"I'm sorry, sir," the nurse said. "Visiting hours are over. You'll have to come back at another time."

"You don't understand," Danny pleaded, the tears running down his young face. "He's my best friend. I need to see him. Please,

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