I went to roll onto my side in the bed. Bad idea, the mattress pressed up against my damaged shoulder, waking me up instantly. I stirred, opening my eyes, and forgot where I was for a moment. At first I thought I was in my room, waking up from a confusing dream, but this was not my room. My shoulder also reminded me of the painful reality. Great, I was still stuck here.
Sitting up, I pulled off my sneakers to see what damage had been done. They were cut up, but they made my shoulder still feel like mincemeat. On the stand next to the bed were tweezers and some rubbing alcohol; they had used it to attempt patching up my shoulder. I needed both, not only for my feet but some glass had gotten in my leg and it was pushing against the mattress. It felt as painful as it sounded.
Tenderly I pressed the tweezers against my skin. Normally this would be followed by additional swearing but I had my bummed shoulder to distract me from that pain. Lucky me.
The glass got pried out and clinked to the ground. Followed by more bleeding. This time I did swear, and hobbled over to a box of tissues.
They were picked up and handed to me. My eyes met his. It was the guy who got a concussion. “You must be Sam.” I said plucking tissues out of the box and pressing against my leg. I about tipped over because I had nothing to balance against. He caught me and grabbed my shoulder to steady myself.
“Don’t do that again.” I groaned. “I’m already beaten up.”
“Sorry,” To make up for his mistake he grabbed tissues and wrapped them around my leg, pressing gently. “So you’re Hope?”
I raised my eyebrows, “How’d you know that?”
“You told my brother,” Then he looked up, “Plus it’s on your class ring.”
“Oh yeah,” I had forgotten already, the whole day had been pretty fuzzy. “So what time is it?”
“It’s around six.” My stomach rumbled agonizingly, I hadn’t eaten since yesterday.
“Please tell me you have food,”
He smiled at my rumbling stomach, “Yeah, do you need help into the kitchen?”
“No, I think I’ve got it this time.”