The Tribute Drummer

Grey

"Argh!" I woke with a start then moaned, realising my situation and remembering the way I reached the concrete floor a good dozen or so stairs down from the conference room. Looking at the stairs I wanted to get up, I couldn't though. My ankle killed, even the smallest movement was tremendous agony.

Ok so I will crawl.

Tackling the first step I managed to pull myself up a little then my shoulder decided it didn't like the weird angle I was trying manoeuvre. I screamed in pain then slumped down to think, breath in painful breathes, and recover. Looking down over the rail I saw the stairs ran down to the next level, could I go down instead of up?

I felt heavy again, my head was aching, my lungs and ribcage screamed every time I moved, everytime I breathed. Blood continuously trickled and I felt faint and nauseous. My stomach a knot of pain.

I dozed, minutes I think, it's an artificial light in here, no windows of course, so time sort of stands still. My stomach hurts more now, she only hit me there the once why does it hurt as much as my head. Maybe I hit the railing or one of the steps as I tumbled. What a klutz I am.

Abe will love this story, me beaten up by her. John would, I hope, be happy I didn't fight back against the mother of his child but then, what's to say she says that I, in fact, did fight her, or worse, say I started it.

Clarity kicked in and I looked about the stairwell, the place had been rigged for Johns presence maybe there was a camera. Leaning my head back, craning as far as I could without blacking out I couldn't see anything except old grey paint peeling from the sides of the stairs and hand rails.

Managing to lean up against the wall, I felt for my pockets, maybe some gum would stop me thinking about the pain, throbbing and never dissipating.

I fell asleep again.

"Miss Laboriel, Miss Laboriel, Catlyn" Agent Carney hovered in my vision my eyes trying to open and fix on his.

"Hmmmm" I really need to respond, try again " I , me.........." I grasped at his shirt and caught it, as he scooped me up.

"Get a medic, an ambulance, tell Lennon!"

The light changed and I felt a bit better, I moved my head to see the conference room swimming around me, I'm on the table. Someones moaning they need help.

I need to get off the bloody table, I push but I 'm held down, trying again, I feel a hand steadying my good shoulder. Everything hurts so much. So much moaning.

No, no, no! I don't want to sleep again.