The paralyzing hurt spread through my body like icy, liquid metal. I clenched my fists as I hesitantly took each step. I noticed my feet tremble. My legs twitched, fighting the impulse to whirl around and sprint down that damp, shadowed corridor; my throat closed in threat of screaming at the underpaid, overworked staff who called Dad's case hopeless, and my jaw became tight. Fire in the form of water stung my nut brown eyes, threatening their attack. I crunched my teeth over my lip harder than I ever had. Salty blood filled my mouth. Slowly, my brain picked up my feet in an unbalanced gait, carelessly dropping the lead weights to the ground with each harrowing step. Reality tried to tap its way into my marching brain's rhythm. Dad was dying. I was helpless. That was all.