Leaves of yellow, red, and orange covered the ground on a warm fall afternoon. Through the sky flew a blue Frisbee with a man striding quickly behind it determined to snatch the flying disk out of the air. Screeching in the background someone yelled, "Stop, Johnny!" Johnny looked back to see who yelled his name. Out of the corner of his eyes two bright lights cut through the fog. Bam! Johnny was smacked by a black sports car that sped off without stopping. "No!" Steve screamed, as he ran to help his best friend. He collapsed near the injured body, "Johnny, can you hear me?" Steve yelled in hysteria. Johnny lay motionless in a crumpled disfigured ball. He was barely breathing. Steve's mother, Katherine, was picking apples on the other end of the house when she heard the commotion. She hurried to the scene and saw her son with a panicked, bright red face peering over his best friends bloody, irresponsive body. Katherine then ran inside and called for the paramedics.
             Johnny was rushed to the hospital. Steve and his mother sat in the waiting room with its theme of warm calming hues of pink and green. Steve was well aware of that room because of his numerous injuries last year in football, which had ruined his promising junior year as starting linebacker. He was wore grass-stained sweats and a baggy green sweatshirt. Katherine was still sporting her dirty overalls and her blue butterfly sweatshirt. The boy sat with his head buried in his hands looking down at the ground. His mom squeezed her hips into the chair next to him. She then perched over her child placing her tender hand on his back for support. The kid gasped for air as he squeezed out, "This is all my fault. I should have never thrown the Frisbee so far."
             Steve's mom took one look into her son's teary eyes and began to wipe away the tears like she had done when he was younger. She then began to speak,...