Forget The World

"Owen! I'm home. Whatever your making! it smells amazing!" I call. I put my keys in the dish by the door, and walk around the boxes at the end of the couch.

"Owen?" I call again, maybe he didn't hear me. I hear a crash come from the kitchen.

"OWEN!" I run to the kitchen to see him on the floor, clutching his chest, trying to breathe, but failing miserably.

"Oh my!!........." With shaking hands, I pull my phone out and dial 911. The rest comes in a blur. I've called 911 a hundred times, but there's only one other time that's felt like this. Ryan. I thought I was over that, but I feel like I'm living it all over again.