You get behind him and pound your fists onto his back in the hopes of helping him cough the thing up. It does no good. You try again and again, but to no avail.

His face begins turning a deep red and you start to panicking, pounding mercilessly on his back, over and over again. Your sight blurs, you realize dimly that there are tears clouding your vision.

His face begins to turn blue and your attempts to dislodge the roach turn to desperation. Nothing seems to be working, you slap him in the face several times but still nothing.

Terry begins to cry behind you. Dan starts spasming on the ground, his limbs twitching and convulsing. It isn't long before he goes still. Deadly still.

You collapse to the dirt path beside your friends body, sobbing. It is a long while before you are able to stand. The two of you drive to the nearest hospital to report what has happened.

Several days later you attend his funeral. Your friends are all shaken up by this event. None of them speak to you. Dan's mother is terribly broken up, she looks upon you like you are Satan himself, red caped and wielding a pitchfork.

Your life is never the same after that. You become despondent, reclusive, isolated, and all the other adjectives. Your life is a mess.

You go from one drug to another, falling deeper and deeper into your addiction. Years later you take one to many pills and pass out, foaming at the mouth and overdosing.

You never return.