FOMOPHOBIA

Intro

Another striking blow to my bruised and fractured jaw sends me whistling through the air. I wheeze as the air gets shoved out of my lungs. My visions is blurred by black splotches and tears. I brace myself to thud onto the wooden ground once more, but something stops me. A hand. A strong hand that embraces me into their arms. The strength of this person seems familiar, but then again, I could hardly tell a punch from a tap, feeling every amount  of pain possible from the blood curdling wounds that coated my body. I couldn't find the strength to look up, my weak body didn't allow me to move any of my limbs. Stiffly, I felt myself shifting, the familiar silhouette had turned me until my droopy eyes locked onto his. Time slowed, frozen. For a second the pain had slipped out of existence. For a second I remembered why I was put here in the first place. For a second, it felt like the hope wasn't lost, that in this moment, our eyes chained together, I couldn't be broken, light could be let it. But it wasn't long before the look was gone. One familiar glance at his defined features, his iris retracting, his muscles stiffening. His warm blue eyes held me in a trance. I couldn't see them for long, the black clouds pixelated around my vision until my entire perception of the world was fuzzed pitched darkness. I felt the blood trickle from my nose, and drip to the palms of my hands where it beaded into warm pools of rich red. My wounded body, practically dead, still ached from the impact. I couldn't see, much less think. I felt his arms draw me closer, sending daggers of pleasant pain along my sides. I felt his warm face rest into the crook of my neck; he whispered a single sentence into my deafened ear. The words lingered, but it didn't matter, the world began to fade to the darkest shades of black, my mind went still, it was too late.