The Ten Things She Said While Dying: An Annotation

In the few seconds she had before the light of her world winked out forever, the dying human being said the following ten things:
“Oh God.
“It hurts.
“It hurts.
“Help me.
“Somebody please help me.
“Anybody.
“Holy Shit What Are You?”
“Oh, God.
“Please.
“Mommy.” Her name was Robyn Howlett, and she was twenty-two years old. Robyn was an alien creature to me, product of conditions wholly at odds with those that produced my kind. She spoke in a language I had never heard. Nevertheless, I understood everything she said. It is the nature of my kind to understand everything that is spoken in our presence, a necessary adaptation given that we are often summoned by creatures as alien to us as we are to them, creatures who often cannot expand their minds enough to even perceive us.