There were three loud cracks--like dry twigs snapping in the summer sun--that came from my neck; I let out such a high-pitched, girlish scream that it didn't seem to belong to me. I found myself headlong with my back arched and arms outstretched in an endless pitch-black void with a pin prick of brilliant white light that sped away from my grey, featureless feet. My thoughts raced, "What's happening!?'" My thoughts were getting faster and more desperate as I tore through the void, even the blackness becoming a blur now. I thought, "Am I dying? Is that what's happening?" I became aware that as soon as I thought something, it got sucked away just as quick. "I'm dying!! Noooo,” I screamed out into the void.

There was a pause. A complete stop, but I had felt no deceleration. I just hovered. Why? The pinprick of pure, brilliant, white light was still up there in the top right of my field of vision;l it just hung there in the very far distance. Very cautiously and timidly I slowly felt around in the blackness. Perhaps I was on a ledge and any sudden movement would cause me to fall even further. But, nothing was supporting me. There was no up, down, hot, cold, or sound--nothing but blackness and the pin prick of light.

Then suddenly there was a shimmering of light and shade, like that which rises from the bottom of a swimming pool. Still, there was no sound, just silhouettes moving...then outlines. They were faces with their mouths moving. They said, “Lad can you hear me? Are you alright? What's wrong?"

I felt confused. An inner stubbornness made me hold onto life in that final instant. I was alive again. For a moment it crossed my mind that this was a dream. I wanted to get up. I didn't like this kind of fuss. It was not macho. When injured in football you can lie there writhing on the grass like a worm but in rugby you must spring to your feet, even if you have compound fractures to both legs. When I thought about getting up, I couldn't. Nothing responded to my thoughts. I couldn’t will my legs or arms to move.