The Clairvoyant

One | 92 days, 16th hour

My punch isn't exactly straight so my opponent's hit gets me first on the jaw. Backing away, my head staggering from the punch, she doesn't hesitate and kicks me in the stomach when she's got her bearings ready.

I can feel the air escape my lungs as I collapse backward, my stomach aching from pain and my jaw now tasting with something like rust. Biting my lips, I taste the blood in my mouth and keep my teeth clenched.

“Is that all you've got?” She taunts, stepping forward and her style into some kind of stance. “How weak. You call me out for a fight and this happens? b***h please, next time you start a fight, think first on who your opponent is!”

She readies her fist and hits me on the cheek and now I fall onto the ground completely, my mind blazing with numerous static that I could immediately tell is the pain I'm feeling. I try to stand up again but my legs give way. I stay down, my eyes closed and I can hear her cussing at me, saying I'm weak, saying I'm so fragile.

I don't know how long I stay down there, eyes still closed, when I suddenly feel my wrist being pulled by something. My eyes blink open and I spot a guy there, staring back at me. He gives me a smile, I don't.

“You okay?”

I try to say something. Nothing. Only a moan.

“It's fine, you were hit badly. That was a stupid question to ask.”

He helps me up, my arm now going around his neck and his arm snaking my back. “For support,” He begins before I try to struggle away from him. “I'm taking you back to school so start thinking of some kind of excuse, will you?”

My eyes feel groggy all of a sudden, but his hand slaps me awake. I glare at him and he only chuckles. “Don't fall asleep. I swear, you should think of something pretty quickly if you don't want me to tell the nurse the truth.”

“Fell down the stairs,” I mutter inaudibly. It's a stupid excuse but it's all I can think of. Then I add, “Hit the door when you opened it.”

“You're adding me into this?” He chuckles. “I saved you.”

“I was fine,” I fight back feebly.

“Yeah,” He agrees, but I can tell he's holding back a laugh. “You were fine.”

We're going up the stairs, and I raise my head to see. I feel as if its a flight of stairs and try to tell him to stop, that I'm fine and that I should just go home and get some rest. At least at home once I get my senses back, I can start treating my wounds myself.

“You know, since you're a girl, you should stop fighting every once in a while.” He begins but I reply nothing to him. “And stop starting fights with others you know are a hell a lot better than you. She was huge.”

I didn't start the fight though, the words come into my mind. And its the truth. I didn't start the fight. But of course, I don't tell him this at all and keep my head down. I let him pull me up. Up the might stairs of pain.

“Just a little longer,” He mutters and I can tell he's having a hard time pulling me. He's practically dragging me up after all and since I'm of no help to him, I know it's like this guy is carrying a sack of rice, alone.

“Just a little more,” He whispers to himself but my mind is already willing me to sleep. I feel my legs turn to jelly, my arms already like spaghetti. “Hey! I said don't fall asleep. You might not wake up after a long time if you do!”

Like I care.

“Stella, I said-”

His hand was trying to tap my cheeks awake - I could feel it on the first touch - but then my feet tapped on something else. Something hard that made me lose my balance. I stagger forward, making the boy stagger forward as well, then I could feel the shift of gravity on my back.

And then we're falling. Falling. Falling down the stairs.