Paint Me Black and Leave Me Alone

-43-

Morgan POV-

I groaned and cracked my eyes open after what seemed like an eternity of keeping them closed.

It was dark and there was this horrible smell around me, almost like sewers. When my eyes finally adjusted, I realized that I was in the sewers.

I tried to sit up, but my back and neck were aching and my joints were all creaking, almost as if I hadn't moved in centuries.

My muscles refused to support me so it took nearly five minutes just to drag and prop myself up against a graffitied wall. I groaned again at how sore I was all over, especially my head.

Reaching up, I had to force my fingers through my long, matted hair to feel a bump that was tenderly throbbing on my scalp.

Wait... long hair?

I ran my fingers down through my tresses and sure enough, my filthy, matted brown hair made it all the way down to the middle of my back.

How long was I out?

I massaged my temples, trying to think back.

Ok, the last thing I remember is... Is... Running from somebody... The cops, I think... I went down into the sewers and...

Everything was hazy after that point.

How hard did I hit my head?

I reached into the pocket of my baggy jeans to check the date on my phone, but the device was dead. I lifted the sleeve of my baggy Hot Topic sweatshirt to check the time, but my wrist watch was dead as well.

I sighed and looked to my left.

My black backpack was lying about ten feet away from me, it's contents strewn across the sewer floor and completely covered in rats.

I scrunched my nose up in disgust and looked to my right. Dead end. I looked up and noticed a ladder built right into the concrete wall that led up to a sewer lid.

After waiting for another ten minutes, trying to regain basic arm and leg functions, I stood and made my way out of the sewers.

I hissed and shrieked slightly as I lifted the lid and bright sunlight hit my sensitive icy blue eyes. Even though I felt like I was going blind, I still managed to drag myself out of the manhole and stand.

After about five minutes of just trying to adjust to the sudden brightness, I looked around and realized I was in an unfamiliar alleyway.

Stumbling out of it, I felt people staring at me. Well, I can't blame them. I would stare at me too.

Passing by a newspaper stand, an older man with greying hair and a cockney accent ran around from behind it and stuck a small towel in front if his nose before grabbing me by the shoulder.

"You alright, kid?" He asked, keeping me from swaying too much.

I furrowed my brow and stumbled out of his grasp. Opening my mouth to talk, I realized I couldn't. My throat was as dry as the desert and my lips were cracking and bloody. I shook my head at the man and fell backwards onto the sidewalk, my severely underused muscles failing me again.

"Hey!" I heard him shout as my eyes closed on their own. "Someone call an ambulance!"

My consciousness faded with the sounds of sirens growing near.

-/-/-/-/-

Beep... Beep... Beep...

I cracked open my eyes again and stared up at the ceiling of some room for a bit.