Tell Me a Story

The Well

In the darkness, Adam didn’t see the floor until it rushed up to meet him, crashing into him like a train at full speed, crushing his bones and sending a torrent of his blood flying from his mouth, propelled along by his own breath, knocked out of him at incredible speed and leaving him with no energy to even cry out in pain.

Everything was silent, then, and if it hadn’t been for the unbearable pain, targeting every single inch of his body then he may well have believed that he was dead. Instead he only thought I can’t be far off. He had ended up on his back and now he tried to move, lifting his shoulder in an effort to roll over and maybe stand.

A scream tore through his body and exploded from his mouth the moment he had moved less than an inch. He felt like his bones had been crushed to bits by the fall and now jangled about within him as he attempted to get up. His muscles were surely ripped and torn and threatened to snap about completely should he ever get up.

He lay still, realising the wetness beneath him did not come from the rain, as he had first imagined, but the rapidly gathering pool of blood, seeping from several newly made holes across his body. He tried to raise his head to inspect the damage but his head swam and dizziness overtook him as he did, leaving him feeling ready to throw up. In any case it would have been too dark to see the full extent of the damage even if he could move.

Footsteps. To his left… no, his right… his head continued to swim and his ears were fuzzy. The footsteps seemed to be coming from all around him and certainly they were distant. Growing closer, though, he thought, closer all the time. Something was coming to get him.

They stopped, suddenly, and he felt something touch his arm. A voice spoke out from miles away and it echoed around his head, making no sense. A hand rubbed his arm, causing intense pain up and down it. He tried to open his mouth to tell the hand to stop but found it filled with blood. He tried to swallow it down but he could feel his body rejecting it, and sending sick up to combat it.

He closed his eyes, his head continued to swim and then…

“Adam, are you okay?”

He was on his side. How had that happened when he had been on his back a moment earlier? His mouth still tasted of copper but now seemed to be empty, and he could feel dried blood and sick down his cheek, and could smell it on the floor in front of him.

“Adam… you passed out and then you started to choke… I had to move you, oh God are you okay?”

Mary’s voice… that beautiful beautiful voice… he had passed out… where were the drums? … was he alive?

The swimming sensation had died away but there was a dull throbbing at the base of his skull, thudding away like an extra heart, sending a spasm of pain through his body with every beat. He still couldn’t move – it hurt far too much – but he was able to hear properly now, the world had stopped echoing, and as he opened his eyes he could see the dark shape of Marie crouching over him in the dark.

“I’m fine,” he lied, his voice raspy and weak and his throat aching with every syllable they forced out. She leant further forward as he spoke, resting her head gently on top of his, ignoring the blood and the smell of sick. He felt a wet tear fall from her eye to his cheek and she apologised in a whisper so quiet he thought he may have imagined it.

“Why...” he started and his voice choked out the moment he started. He had to pause, take a few painful, laboured breaths, and try again: “why did you invite me round… today?”

“Because I like you, you idiot,” she said with a chuckle, “your not like the other boys.”

“No, I’m in pain,” he said and she laughed again, then kissed him on the cheek. For a brief moment all the pain disappeared. But only for a moment.