Michael
Pain surrounds my body creating a tingling sensation to wrap around my chest and flow down to my legs. What was once numb is now ignoting with a fire burning all around me.
My eyes slowly open and scan the room I am in. It's bleached white walls and disinfectant smell alert me to know I am in a room inside a hospital.
Doing a check in my head, I observe where the pain is radiating from and flinch when my movement creates a spark of agony in my abdomen.
Shot.
I was shot.
Whitney!
Grunting in pain, I attempt to sit up but fall back down cringing at how much torture my body is in. Looking around the room, I survey my surroundings once again and watch as my gaze falls on the sleeping form of my mother. Her body is bent over a small metal chair, leaving the top half of her body on my bed beside my arm. Her hand, holding the ring of the man that she has loved since she was a young girl, clasps with mine creating a warm ting in my heart.