"I'm here at the scene where five middle aged men were assaulted last night by the same infamous g**g that has been terrorising our town for more than half a year now."
My eyes are closed but everything in my body tenses and my palms get clammy as a voice of a reporter continues, hearing her words so clear and loud in my ears, now that I'm awake.
Sitting up is a struggle, but I can't miss this. I take a quick glance around me at the school's infirmary with squinted eyes before peering up back to the HD TV flatscreen on the ceiling.
She stands at approximately the same place where those men attacked me.
I can feel bile rising at the back of my throat as the scene transitions to one of the men in an interview. But this time, instead of an old and poorly dressed drunk, I see a man in a da
