The blood rushed through me as I ran the sidewalk. It was slick with newly fallen and still falling rain, and it was incredibly hard to keep my balance straight. But fear had taken over and my adrenaline rush was doing the hard work for me. I was in pursuit. And there was no time for falling.
The pavement felt harder and harder under my feet with every desperate step I took to get to safety. But then the worst possible thing happened. I felt a shoe step on the back of my ankle. I knew it was the end. My concentration then ceased and I felt straight onto my shoulder and partially in the road. I know most people have dislocated their shoulder before, but being my first time, underestimating the pain of it, and having my drug addict ex boyfriend chasing after me like the loony he was, the pain was even more unbearable. "Oh my friggin GOSH!" I screamed. I held my shoulder and tasted a mixture of salty tears and polluted rain drops. That only made the pain worse, of course, because I forgot to mention I had bitten my tongue to the bleeding point. But back to the drama.
There he stood watching over me. He was angry, high, and heartbroken. One of the worse three things you can put together in a person. And here he was. He knew I was in pain. Vulnerable to any attack he could imagine. Oh my gosh I was scared. "Please.....don't hurt me." I begged as well as I could with blood of pity running through my mouth. He reared up his leg and I knew this was it. Good-bye fair world that I've grown to know and love. This man was a winner of 95% fights he's gotten into. He could kill a fragile 108 pound girl in one good blow to the stomach, I assumed.
But after 5 seconds had passed, I started to wonder. I started to unfurl the already very ball I had made to protect myself the best I could from that firm kick. He had begun to put his leg down and mumbled a sentence that went sort of like "I cud-neva hurtcha." He turned around and put one hand on his forehead and the other on his waist. "Man, I got a killer headache...." But that's all he said. He was acting like I never existed. Like it was an ordinary day in our rainy little town. Slowly he ran his fingernails through his hair and casually walked away. While I was in awe at this odd behavior, I remembered why I was still laying here on the ground. The pain came instantly.
This is great. I told myself. I'm here with a broken arm (so that's what I thought) in the cold, and no way home.
Here came the real challenge. I thought that since my shoulder was aching, it would just hurt worse if I let it hang down. So I had to make my way from my back to my feet without using my arms. At the time, since pain had taken over, I didn't think about just rolling forward onto my butt and getting up. Or if I did it would be too painful on my arm.
But finally, I got up and made walked sluggishly home. When I rang the doorbell with my good arm, my mother appeared. "Oh my gosh, honey. You're soaking wet. Here step inside the doorway here and take your clothes off. I'll get a towel." I guess the rain had wiped away the evindence of the tears that were once pouring down my face like condensation on the side of a Coke bottle on Independece Day.
When my mother came back with a towel and forced my arm off my injured one, her jaw dropped. She told me that the bone that used to be in line with my neck was now so crooked that if I could lift my shoulder high enough it would probably poke my neck. Eww.
Gosh I'm tired of writing right now. Peace Out. dramallama
 My Life Belongs To Music · Fri May 29, 2009 @ 04:47am · 0 Comments |
