You tried to stop Johnny's bleeding by applying a cloth to the wound, but his blood kept flowing. The paramedics took their time, and Johnny looked at you through half-closed eyelids and touched your cheek with a weak hand. You assured him of help, but he barely spoke your name. His breathing became ragged, and you realized with horror that he might die. In desperation, you clung to his chest, feeling his faint breathing. He patted you on the back encouragingly, whispering that you would make it.