His eyes snapped open gaping at the ceiling, and soon he was sitting up in a flash, staring at the wall, his breath heavy and his eyes widened.
Zayne blinked. Was all of it a dream?
He raised his hand to rub his eyes and felt the sharp pain on his shoulders, causing him to wince. It felt like the bullet had broken his bones to pieces, and it was taking a whole lot of effort not to fall back on the bed.
Ok, it wasn't a dream, not a nightmare. He stared at the white walls of the room he was in; even looking down at the blue gown he had on, the smell of antiseptic hit his nose.
A hospital. Dammit, he breathed it in. He didn't have the time to be in hospitals; some things needed to be taken care of.
people that needed to be taken care of.
He pulled the needle from his wrist and climbed down from the bed, forcing his eyes to focus when they began to get blurry.
He staggered to the wall, cursing under his breath when he had to use his wounded arm to support his frame before he crashed down,
