Donavon’s first kick make contact with my body. I steeled myself against his second, which I knew would land on my bruised leg, but the pain never came.
At least, the pain never came to me. As soon as Donavon’s foot hit my thigh, he doubled over holding his own leg. My eyes widened in surprised. It took me several seconds to react while his mental voice screamed expletives in my head. Closing the distance separating us, I knelt down, not sure whether I should touch him. Donavon writhed in agony.
“Get a Medical,” I yelled to no one in particular. The students all stared, frozen. “Now,” I snapped. The compulsion behind my command was so strong that several kids took off at a run.
“What happened?” I asked shakily, my hand hovering over his shoulder.
“I don’t know,” he replied out loud, his teeth gritted. He let out several long, hissing breaths, and squeezed his eyes shut to ward off the pain.
We stayed like that, him lying on the ground and me kneeling beside him, for what seemed like an eternity. I wanted to touch him, soothe him, but I was scared he’d reject me. When he opened his eyes, he looked murderous, and I had a bad feeling that his anger was directed at me. I recoiled, sitting back on my haunches in case he decided to release his aggression.
Finally, a Medic arrived with Janet in tow. As soon as Janet saw me kneeling on the ground, she quickened her pace, fear shining in her eyes. When she glanced down at me, she did a double take. Her eyes grew big as saucers. I followed her gaze; my gray pants were darkening to a reddish-black.
“Oh,” I cried out loud. As soon as I saw the blood, a loud crack resonated in my head. Oh, no, I knew what had happened. Suddenly I was the one writing in the grass. My leg burned, flames shooting down my thigh to lick my toes. My pants clung to my skin, sticky with my blood. I was vaguely aware that Donavon had stopped panting, his breathing returning to normal. His eyes found mine, the blue irises swirling with accusations and fury. Donavon scrambled back, putting as much distance between us as he could manage with the all the people crowding the area.
Janet motioned a Medic closer to where I lay paralyzed with fear and agony. He scooped me up in his arms and began running, cradling me to his chest. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to breathe through the pain. I wanted to deflect it or block it, but the last thing I needed was to transfer the pain – I certainly didn’t want the Medic to drop me.
When we arrived at the Medical building, a team was standing by. The Medic carefully deposited me on to a stretcher waiting at the entrance. I still had my eyes shut, but I felt and heard people cutting my pants away from my thigh. I swore loudly as one peeled the sticky fabric from the wound. Terrified that the sight of my blood would send me into hysterics, I kept my eyes scrunched shut and tightly gripped the handrails of the gurney until the skin over my knuckles turned white. Don’t cry, don’t cry , I chanted silently. You’ve been through worse.
The stretcher came to a stop, and I felt four simultaneous pricks several inches above my knee. A heavy chemical feeling flowed through my veins, and my leg went numb.
I chanced a peek. The same Medic who’d carried me from the practice field was sopping up the blood with clean towels while another prepared sterilized pads to disinfect the area. I averted my eyes; watching the needle thread stitches through my skin was the last image that I wanted burned into my mind. Unfortunately, I still felt the pull of the fiber as he threaded the stitches to close the wound. It took every ounce of my willpower not to retch.
“Good as new,” he pronounced when he was done.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, lying back on the stiff white sheets of the gurney. His footsteps retreated from my bedside.
“How are you?” Janet’s voice asked.
“Didn’t you hear him?” I replied. “Good as new.”
“You only needed ten
At least, the pain never came to me. As soon as Donavon’s foot hit my thigh, he doubled over holding his own leg. My eyes widened in surprised. It took me several seconds to react while his mental voice screamed expletives in my head. Closing the distance separating us, I knelt down, not sure whether I should touch him. Donavon writhed in agony.
“Get a Medical,” I yelled to no one in particular. The students all stared, frozen. “Now,” I snapped. The compulsion behind my command was so strong that several kids took off at a run.
“What happened?” I asked shakily, my hand hovering over his shoulder.
“I don’t know,” he replied out loud, his teeth gritted. He let out several long, hissing breaths, and squeezed his eyes shut to ward off the pain.
We stayed like that, him lying on the ground and me kneeling beside him, for what seemed like an eternity. I wanted to touch him, soothe him, but I was scared he’d reject me. When he opened his eyes, he looked murderous, and I had a bad feeling that his anger was directed at me. I recoiled, sitting back on my haunches in case he decided to release his aggression.
Finally, a Medic arrived with Janet in tow. As soon as Janet saw me kneeling on the ground, she quickened her pace, fear shining in her eyes. When she glanced down at me, she did a double take. Her eyes grew big as saucers. I followed her gaze; my gray pants were darkening to a reddish-black.
“Oh,” I cried out loud. As soon as I saw the blood, a loud crack resonated in my head. Oh, no, I knew what had happened. Suddenly I was the one writing in the grass. My leg burned, flames shooting down my thigh to lick my toes. My pants clung to my skin, sticky with my blood. I was vaguely aware that Donavon had stopped panting, his breathing returning to normal. His eyes found mine, the blue irises swirling with accusations and fury. Donavon scrambled back, putting as much distance between us as he could manage with the all the people crowding the area.
Janet motioned a Medic closer to where I lay paralyzed with fear and agony. He scooped me up in his arms and began running, cradling me to his chest. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to breathe through the pain. I wanted to deflect it or block it, but the last thing I needed was to transfer the pain – I certainly didn’t want the Medic to drop me.
When we arrived at the Medical building, a team was standing by. The Medic carefully deposited me on to a stretcher waiting at the entrance. I still had my eyes shut, but I felt and heard people cutting my pants away from my thigh. I swore loudly as one peeled the sticky fabric from the wound. Terrified that the sight of my blood would send me into hysterics, I kept my eyes scrunched shut and tightly gripped the handrails of the gurney until the skin over my knuckles turned white. Don’t cry, don’t cry , I chanted silently. You’ve been through worse.
The stretcher came to a stop, and I felt four simultaneous pricks several inches above my knee. A heavy chemical feeling flowed through my veins, and my leg went numb.
I chanced a peek. The same Medic who’d carried me from the practice field was sopping up the blood with clean towels while another prepared sterilized pads to disinfect the area. I averted my eyes; watching the needle thread stitches through my skin was the last image that I wanted burned into my mind. Unfortunately, I still felt the pull of the fiber as he threaded the stitches to close the wound. It took every ounce of my willpower not to retch.
“Good as new,” he pronounced when he was done.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, lying back on the stiff white sheets of the gurney. His footsteps retreated from my bedside.
“How are you?” Janet’s voice asked.
“Didn’t you hear him?” I replied. “Good as new.”
“You only needed ten
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