The Mafia's Crazy Obsession
I was never good with these things.
Lana screamed again, the sound more piercing and riotous this time. She shot forward and dropped to her knees, her hands bloodied, her face splattered with crimson. Her crutches clanked to the floor near my ribs as she grabbed my face, looking over her shoulder, and shoving someone away. Her face glistened with tears in no time. They kept dropping on my face and temples, and she kept wiping them off again and again, talking loudly, I think. Her mouth kept moving, like a gushing tap, but I couldn't make out any sound. None at all. Only a weirdly comforting pain. A blazing, yet peaceful fire in my side, spreading from my chest, everywhere.
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