VictoriaWoods292
Tom - April 2024.
The shaking was violent, he did not know why, or how to escape it. His fist and arms pulled rigid, his back arching upwards. His teeth clamped down hard, eyes fixed into a pained stare. Luke could not control his movements, could not stop the shaking. He tried to gather his senses work out where he was. He inhaled and smelled a pungent smell, a cross between antiseptic and vomit. He felt his own stomach lurch and its mangled contents rise into his throat. The shaking became more violent, he was thrashing his whole body around but was unable to respond, unable to control himself. He felt his skull slamming into the floor, ricocheting up and down over and over. He tried to focus his eyes to flick them one direction or another anywhere except the plain tiled ceiling, he spotted what looked like railings, and a curtain. He caught sight of blue lights. A hospital, he felt a small amount of relief washing over him, he was somewhere safe.
The feeling of safety slammed to a halt. He felt warm fluid running down his face, streaming red over his eyes. He tasted the metallic tang of blood running into his open gaping mouth.