Chapter 28 [Josh's POV 3]

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Author's Note: SORRY FOR LATE UPDATE BUT IM OFF FOR 2 WEEKS NOW YAY!!!! :) SO I SHOULD HAVE A COUPLE MORE UPDATES :D

Dedicated to: pritchardk156 Thanks for reading!! ;) 

Story Quote: "Crusty blood flakes sprinkle to the carpet in front of me"

Chapter 28

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JOSH'S POV

One eye manages to open. One side of my face feels numb as it presses up against the lounge. Wait. . no? Not the lounge. My view is in line with the floor. No wonder I feel uncomfortable. 

It takes me a while to realise my head is absolutely pounding. My skin burns and my muscles are sore. Sweat makes my hair stick to my forehead. Saliva marks stain the corners of my mouth. I sit up, causing all the boiling blood to swirl around my head. I cringe and massage my hands through my hair, but even that hurts as I ache all over. Did that jerk really knock me unconcious. I weaken at the thought of him, it really disappoints me. 

I slide my hand across the bottom of my nose. Crusty blood flakes sprinkle to the carpet in front of me. I feel like it. It's definitely bruised. I lead my fingers to my lip, which is swollen. Argh, I'm used to this sort of thing anyway, I've been close to death multiple times! I'm like a cat, except I reckon I've had more than nine lives. 

I manage to stand up and I stagger a bit before I'm able to walk properly, even with all my brusing. I can tell nothing's broken, with all my experience of fights, I reckon I should be a doctor. 

I'm in complete silence, except I can hear the fridge running, and some flies hanging around the rotten food in the dump for a kitchen. My bruised eye makes its way beside me, where I spot the knife. I reach for it with my raw knuckles and clutch it tightly. The jerk isn't here in the lounge room. He's probably passed out in the floor or something. I pull out a beer and sag on the lounge. I wasn't going to search for him. That would be a stupid idea, wouldn't it? 

I open the bottle with the opener and take a big swig. Great wake up. . . 

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I finished the bottle. My hands are shaky but I manage to stand up and walk toward the kitchen. I search through the cupboards for a pan. I can use that as a weapon too. I trudge back to the lounge room, grabbing another bottle before collapsing back down. I open the next bottle and I sit there, drinking, and waiting. . .

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The door to the hall is pulled open roughly. I immediately look in the other direction, but I can still see him in the corner of my eye. I drop my gaze to the empty bottle in my hand, peering at the label, finding something to do other than look at him. I sniff, feeling flakes of crusty blood disappear up my nose. 

"S-stay here,' he grumbles, 'I'm. . I'm gonna go and some more beeeeer!" 

I turn my head his way, carefully. I watch as he unlocks the door and then I make my move. I stand up, walk towards him. He hears me but doesn't turn around until I reach him. 

"W-" But I cut him off. I bring one arm up and with all my force, swing the pan hard across his head. It makes a horrible sound as it collides with his head, and he goes falling toward the floor. He lands with a thump. I stare at him for a moment, lying there. I throw the pan to the side and race back to the kitchen. I leave the knife on the bench and search through all the draws. Nothing. I step over his body and enter his room, going through his cupboards. There. A pocket knife. I grab it and shove it in my pocket before running back out to the front room. Once there, I  bend down and hold two fingers to his neck, then his wrist. He's not dead, just unconcious. There was some good parts to that I suppose. And with that, I pull the door open and slam it behind me before racing off down the street, heading somewhere, in some direction. I didn't know where I was going but there was a footpath beneath me and a road beside me, I'd end up somewhere anyway. . . 

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