Scott woke up lying flat on is back. He blinked and saw a starry sky. His face felt wet and as he put his hand up, it felt sticky. Everything was colored in various shades of blue, but he could tell as he looked at his hand, the dark blue on his hand was blood.
He tried to get up but whoosed out a gasp of pain. The back and side of his head, his ribs and his leg were seriously protesting movement. He laid back down and tried to think.
He remembered the Mitch look alike – green eyes, not brown. He didn't even ask his name. And then.... he was driving. Idiot. A complete idiot. He didn't want to go back home. He decided to drive up to the mountains. Why not? He needed to get away. Get away from people, from work, from home, from Mitch. The more and more he thought about all the things he wanted to get away from, the harder and harder he pushed against the accelerator. The roads were winding, the city lights fewer and fewer. That's the last he remembers.
He must have veered off the road. Car. Right. Where's the car? He tilted his head up a bit and saw the sun rising above an overturned car almost hidden in some trees and brush. He was in a ravine.
He knew this was going to hurt, but he didn't hear any sirens, voices or anything really. He had to try to get up. He carefully rolled to his side and it hurt like hell. "Fuck!" breathe out through the nose, in through the mouth, repeat.
He would have to crawl up the ravine to the street and hope a car would drive by, not run over him and help him.
YOU ARE READING
Stop Fighting It
Fanfictionmitch is alone this weekend but can't stay home. He just can't. He should have.
