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In some cultures, what I do is considered normal.
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Annaliese staggered back against one of the empty racks, her hand pressed against her midriff. It hurt. Oh, it hurt so much. She blinked rapidly, her vision blurred by the tears streaming down her face and the blobby white after-image of the flash from the gun. Her legs felt gumby, like they wouldn’t support her anymore. Blindly reaching out with her free hand, she grabbed the middle shelf as her legs folded up under her.

Several items went clattering to the floor. A small part of her brain hoped that nothing had broken as she joined the items on the ground. It was so very dark. What was happening?

Ray… where was Ray?

It hurt so much to breathe. It was like there was an elephant sitting on her chest. Annaliese’s head lolled to one side as she tried to focus. She needed help. She was bleeding all over the place. She could feel it running down her sides, even though she was following the first aid stuff she was taught and keeping pressure on it. Where was Ray?

She tried pushing down harder, which made her arch up off the ground and silently cry out. Lifting her hand hurt too and she managed a shaky gasp. Why was this happening? Where was Ray?
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Monsters · The Residential Area