Chapter 3: Chapter 3 Arrival to a new world
"This is the best game ever" Armstrong muttered as he took off his game helmet.
"Yeah bro, the girl at the inn was so seductive and made my rod rise, I can't wait to get more coins so I can bang her ass" Anthony muttered and they all laughed.
"It's getting late I have to go back home my Dad and siblings are back" Armstrong muttered as he stood up for the chair while stretching his arms.
"I got you bro after your graduation party we are still going to party at pleasure online " Anthony spoke with a smile on his face and they'll laughed.
"Yeah that can be possible if only you have much coins" Armstrong muttered.
"Woah" the other two of his friends muttered and they all laughed.
Armstrong shook their hands one after the other and left.
.........
The sun, a fiery orb descending toward the horizon, cast long shadows across the bustling campus. Armstrong, his chest puffed with pride, clutched his graduation cap in his hand, the air thick with the bittersweet emotions of ending and beginning. He had fought hard, clawed his way through late nights and caffeine-fueled cramming sessions, and finally, he was standing here, a graduate.
He had decided to return his cap, a gesture of closure more than anything. The cap, once crisp and white, now bore the marks of countless celebrations – champagne stains, scribbled messages from friends, and a lopsided feather from a toga mishap. But to Armstrong, it was a symbol of his journey, a worn-out map leading him to this very moment.
As he walked, his mind drifted back to the ceremony. The cheers of his family, the proud smile of his professors, the feeling of accomplishment that swelled within him. He almost missed the orange blur darting across his path.
It was a cat, a stray with tangled fur and wary eyes. It scurried between the legs of students, a mischievous imp defying the flow of the crowd. For a moment, Armstrong was mesmerized, transported back to his childhood days spent chasing stray cats through alleyways. He almost forgot his purpose, his destination.
Then, in a heartbeat, everything went wrong.
A car, its headlights piercing the twilight, swerved around the corner, its horn blaring a warning cry. Armstrong, caught off guard, froze. The impact was instantaneous, brutal. He was thrown off his feet, his body a ragdoll flung against the unforgiving asphalt.
Pain, sharp and searing, ripped through him. He tasted blood, metallic and thick, coating his tongue. His vision blurred, the world dissolving into a kaleidoscope of flashing lights and frantic voices. He could hear someone calling his name, a distant echo in the midst of the chaos.
He tried to speak, to cry out, but his voice was lost in the roaring in his ears. His limbs felt heavy, leaden, refusing to obey his commands. He was adrift in a sea of pain, his consciousness a fragile boat tossed about by the storm.
"Stay with me, Armstrong! I'm calling an ambulance" This was Sharon his girlfriend who witnessed the accident while coming out from a supermarket. She exclaimed, her hands trembling as she pulled out her phone and dialed 211.
Within a minute, sirens could be heard as police cars screeched to a halt on the small street.
Two police officers jumped out of the car, one heading towards the driver to detain him while the other began administering first aid trying to save him.
"Smith, get on the radio and tell the ambulance to be fast we are losing him!" One of the police officers shouted in desperation.
As the police officer worked to stop the bleeding Sharon was pushed aside until the ambulance arrived.
Four paramedics jumped out and quickly put him on a stretcher, rushing him into the ambulance.
The officers took Sharon to the hospital, where they asked for his relative's details.
She provided Armstrong's mom's number, and they called her to inform her of what had happened.
The air was filled with the piercing, anguished screams of a woman facing the imminent loss of her son.
Taking the phone Armstrong's Dad who was a civil engineer said they should rush to the hospital without delay.
Sirens wailed down as they speed down the road the police car closely tailing the ambulance, racing towards the hospital.
The ambulance rushed towards the nearby city hospital, where expert doctors immediately sprang into action upon its arrival.
Armstrong was bleeding out as they pushed him through the bay doors. Not long enough Sharon arrived at the hospital at the same time with Armstrong's family, including his three sisters.
They all crowded around Sharon asking what happened.
"Come on guys! Stop crowding her. I'll explain" One of the police officers explained everything, and they began to cry and pray to any god who would listen to ensure the boy's well-being.
Hours later, the doctors arrived and were wheeling a hospital bed with the unconscious Armstrong asleep on it.
The doctors and nurses advised them to maintain a safe distance as Armstrong remained precarious.
With a heavy heart, they disclosed the grim extent of Armstrong's injuries to the distressed family as the head doctor approached them.
"Mr and Mrs Adams, your son had internal bleeding. To be frank, he is fortunate to still be alive..."
Only to be cut off due to the sound of an alarm, causing the doctors to panic and everyone's faces to turn ashen as they return to the room.
Armstrong's Mom trailed behind them and witnessed him having a seizure on the bed, blood gushing out from his mouth as the doctors scrambled to stabilize him.
Overwhelmed with emotions, Armstrong's Mom crumpled to the ground, her knees giving out the rest of the family rushed to her side, tears streaming down her face.
"He'll be okay, he will," Armstrong's dad said as he pulled his three daughters close.
The background continued beeping like an alarm until the noise just stopped.
Despite the doctors and the nurse's efforts, they were unable to save him.
Through the haze, Armstrong saw his cap, lying discarded a few feet away, its white now stained crimson. He saw the theater light shining into his eyes. And then, slowly, the darkness began to encroach, threatening to consume him whole. He lay there, on the cold, unforgiving asphalt, his graduation cap a silent witness to his misfortune. The air was filled with communication of doctors and nurses who were trying to save him. He had been on the cusp of a new beginning, but the future that awaited him was now shrouded in uncertainty, a dark and ominous path leading into the unknown.
The world around him faded, the voices turning into muffled whispers, the faces blurring into indistinct shapes. He felt himself sinking, pulled down by an unseen force into the abyss. As the darkness closed in, he could only hope that somewhere, in the vast and unpredictable universe, someone would remember him, not as the boy who was hit by a car on his graduation day, but as Armstrong the fighter, the dreamer, the one who refused to give up, even when the odds were stacked against him.
And so, with a whimper and a sigh, he surrendered to the darkness, leaving behind the echoes of cries and cheers, and entering a world of silence, where the only sound was the steady beating of his own heart, a faint, fragile rhythm that refused to be extinguished.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Solomon_Adams
Solomon_Adams Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone