Maxon's POV ( A few days Earlier)
Gasping, I opened my eyes, a million thoughts swarming my head- Am I dead? Shifting my head, I then spot the iv attached to my arm.No, I must be in the hospital. Unless they have ivs in heaven...I think about that for a minute..if so, I've been very mislead in life.. I finally decide that yes, I'm very messed up, but I can't be dead, not with that annoying "beep!" "Beep!" Of my heart moniter going off in my ear, or I swear I would die..(again?) Back to business Maxon, I remind myself. What happened?....Then I see the many people sharing my room-oh yeah the rebel attack! I remember jumping in front of America to save....to save I feel as if my head is shattering into a thousand pieces as I push through thought after thought, each one harder than the previous. Her from the rebel! My brain shouts out in its own kind of victory ,quickly processing the last twenty-four hours. I feel a rush of admiration for the doctors here. After a hit like that,I most likely would be dead! I mean it must have been like a 80 percent chance I would die, as opposed to a ratio of... Oh! If America where here, I bet she would be yelling at me right now. I can just hear her ' Maxon, you wake up after nearly being killed, and your first thoughts are of the statistics if you should have died or not!' I chuckle at the thought. Speaking of America, where is she? Placing my hands underneath me, I slowly and carefully push myself up into a sitting position. I'm wearing a simple dark blue cotton shirt, and ankle length black comfy trousers. I feel a bulge in my right pocket and, reaching in,I pull out the red velvety case that holds the ring for my bride-to-be. Someone must have transferred that from my suit. The once again troubling thought pushed its way to my attention, almost in a sarcastic way. So, who will it be? The girl that dad is basically going to try to force me to marry, or the one I've always been madly in love with, only to find her cheating on me? Pushing out troublesome thoughts of America, Aspen and Kriss, I look under my shirt, seeing that my left shoulder is completely coated in bandages, all wrapped around so that I looked like a "mummy" form the ancient ages. Or so I had read in George Illea's diary on the "Halloween" section. My dad had made me read them after America had announced that the castes should be destroyed on the Report. However much my father tries to influence me, I feel exactly like America does about George. If I had to chose '***********!'Is my least profanic thought on the matter. I couldn't help but feel amazed at the lack of pain in my shoulder, where the bullet pierced my skin. Man! I almost chuckle, they must have me jacked up on drugs!
  "Maxon?" I hear a gasp behind me.
My heart leaps. America!
"He's awake!" I hear her yell out of the door joyously.I think I hear the footsteps of my parents and the other remaining elite enter the room, Kriss, but none of that matters. As soon as I hear America's voice, my heart leaps in an all to familiar way. I realize in that very second the truth. It's America. It's always been her. I couldn't live if she wasn't by my side. She's the sun in the sky, the soil on the ground, the air I breathe. She my universe, my dear. I self consciously feel many pairs of eyes on the back of my head. Not that I care. Only one pair out of all of them is crystal blue, the color of an unspoiled sea, bright and sparkling in the way I love so much. Spinning slowly so as to not injure my shoulder further, I turned.
"Amer-" I started to shout but was cut off as she yelled out,
"Maxon!"
Kriss ran up and hugged me tightly, as tears streamed down her eyes.
" I was s-s-o afrai-d f-for you!" She sobbed, practically stuttering at every syllable. I was surprised, if not only disappointed, and was glad, for once, of my education that acted as if almost a second me, jumping in when I couldn't.
" Its ok Kriss." I soothed her, not an ounce of my feelings showing through. She pulls away and smiles at me in her sweet kind of way. It is then that I notice not only that she is wearing a dark purple formal gown, but also I see the queen, king, and...Aspen in the background, all wearing dark clothes....and then my own clothes...In the corner of the room I spot a cameraman, ready to capture this moment.I freeze for a second, all the pieces of the puzzle fitting together, creating a horrifying image, leaving me hoping I put the parts together wrong. It takes all of my courage to ask these next simple words.
"Kriss, w-where is-s America?" Her expression and those of everyone in the room suddenly turns somber, as if the're keeping something from me. Kriss hesitantly glances over her shoulder looking at my mom, and some kind of silent conversation seems to happen in between them. Returning to face me Kriss starts to say, gently,
" Maybe it's best if we talk about that another time, one when your a little-"
She is cut off by my dad, his facial and voice expressions fitting the somber mood of the room, but only someone who knew him well could see the triumphant gleam in his eyes.
" Maxon," he says, his voice oozing in fake sympathy. "Poor, Poor Maxon, hasn't anyone told you? America is dead."
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