Stabbing Pain Under Left Shoulder Blade And Chest Novels & Stories

The weight lifts. I don't move. I don't breathe. I press my forehead to the cold ground and breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth and shake. The heat is still in my blood. Fainter now, receding, but present, a low hum where there was nothing before. A frequency. A channel that has been switched on and doesn't know how to switch back off. My shoulder is wrong. My palms are torn. Something in my ribs when I breathe in, not broken, maybe, but not right.

She buried her head in Abel’s neck and cried silently. “I’m… not scared…” she whispered. Her voice was hoarse and had a crying tone that Abel had never heard before. It squeezed his heart. The sensation hurt and felt suffocating. Dillon moaned in pain and tried to get up, so Abel kicked him again. Thud! “Ahhh!” Dillon felt like his left shoulder was about to split. Ruth had stabbed him with a needle, and Abel just happened to kick him in the same spot. His shoulder blade seemed to have dislocated, and the needle went in even deeper.

I rolled over, covered my head with the blanket and wept. The pain chose to concentrate on my chest. My heart felt like it had a hole in it and every time it beat, air carrying stones and thorns rushed through that hole. It was heavy, tight and ultimately horrible to be alive and now that he was far away I was going to be bothered by his absence too. Each inhale and exhale left me shaking and I could not move the shoulder that got shot. The wound throbbed like it was brand new.

Or are they scared? No matter how hard I try, I cannot look up because my shoulder blades hurt like hell. I have no idea why and why it feels as if I am carrying something heavy on my back. Everyone seems to be getting their eyes from my direction as if looking at me hurts them. It does not make sense.

The scar on my rib cage throbs slightly as I think about how the silver serpent darted through the air towards me, hitting my chest directly over my heart. Exactly over my scar. I first noticed a slight bruise around it a few days afterwards. Lavender, with patches of yellow. Over the next few days it darkened to an angry violet, growing more and more painful, more and more tender. Now, I push aside the tartan blanket and reach up below my left breast, touching the sore area through the thin cotton of my camisole. Part of me thinks I should go to a doctor. But I’m not sure what I’d tell them exactly.

ADRIAN I woke up to the steady hum of pain in my ribs and shoulder. Not the sharp, white-hot agony from before, but more like a dull and insistent ache that reminded me I was still alive, but just barely. Even breathing hurt so much, and I gasped for air.

Her fingers clenched the bedsheet beneath her without realizing it. Then the pain hit. A dull, heavy throb spread across her shoulder like a bruise that had decided to wake up with her. It wasn’t sharp anymore, not like it had been last night when her body had slammed into the wall and the breath had been ripped straight out of her lungs. Now it pulsed steadily under her skin, a deep bruise blooming beneath bone. Dakota swallowed and shifted slightly. Instant regret.

He was coming. Fast. The pain in my left shoulder throbbed relentlessly as I struggled to catch my breath. I fled the chaos erupting in the hotel where we had been staying. The smell of blood and flesh clung to me like a curse—one I feared might haunt me until my final breath.

“He took after you ran.” “Oh.” I sighed, looking down. All of a sudden, I got a sharp pain in my heart. It gradually got worse to where I couldn’t hold in the scream for any longer. It felt like I had been stabbed with a silver dagger. If it wasn’t for Robbie I would have fallen. He gathered me in his arms and sat down holding me on his lap as I doubled over in pain holding my chest. “Liz, what’s going on?” Robbie asked in a panic.

I felt a burning pain in my chest, especially on the left side. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to move my hand towards where I felt the stabbing sensation, but I couldn't move. I moved my fingers to make sure I could still use them and groaned in pain as I did so, not understanding why it hurt so much. I tried to recall everything that had happened, but they were just fleeting flashbacks that came to mind.