As the memories free-flow like a gushing river back into my ever-wandering mind, I seem not to be able to sort the dream from the reality. However, in both the dream, and the reality, a few facts remain the same -- that life-changing August night in the first few weeks of our first-grade year still happened, but, it may not have happened as I remember. Another thing that remains consistent between the dream and the reality is everything up until that night. Throughout Mrs. Hendricks' kindergarten class, a group of six boys formed, known as the "Six Pack." We did everything together, from playing in the sandbox and climbing the jungle gym at recess, to doing lessons, to the many birthday parties, to even the occasional sleep-over. People said that you would never see one of the six alone; we were always in a group. This group consisted of Hunter, Aaron, Jase, Logan, Clay, and me. My dream starts with the smell of burned rubber and gasoline on the dark pavement. I can hear the "Whoosh, Whoosh, Whoosh" of a medical helicopter arriving at that spot in the road. I'm sitting about one-fourth a mile away in a long line of other pedestrians with questions floating around in their brains -- "What's happening up there?" "Oh my gosh, is that a medical helicopter?" and for those unemotional, and detached types, "How long is this going to take?" Of course, this being a dream, I already know all the answers to these questions. I can remember the outside our car was wet, cold, and miserable. We were parked on the road right next to the "GT's" gas station where I could smell the pizza and hot dogs cooking mixed with the putrid smell of that mornings coffee that has sat idle since the two old men that sit in "GT' every morning to talk and drink have left to go work on their farms. The helicopter that flew over, in what seems only like a few seconds ago, and took the two boys to the hospital with the same defining "whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. The EMS tru