He coughs, and I feel warm, wet blood splatter my face. Looking back down, I see his eyes roll back in his head, as he dies.* * *“I’ve got...an appointment with a counselor at eight tomorrow morning,” I tell Karrista over the phone. “Will you please come back now?”“Call me when you get out of that appointment,” she tells me, and I have to fight hard not to curse her.“I’ve already been to a few,” I remind her. “I’ve been diagnosed with PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder), and that’s why. "I don't think Marcus wants me here," Yvonne said. "I don't want to cause any trouble."This band's been trouble since I suggested it," Hope observed, with a grin. "Marcus will get over it. If he starts to give you trouble, just call him Charlie."Shawna and Hope were still giggling when the door was closed on the last of the drums, and they started to put it together."That went surprisingly well," Hope said as she pushed the door closed and turned to lean on it."I'm knackered," Shawna declared. More

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