Novel & Cerita Stabbing Pain Under Left Shoulder Blade When Breathing

The bruise blooming across his left ribs was ugly — deep purple and angry red at the edges. “Jesus,” I whispered, gently pressing my fingers around the area. He didn’t flinch, but his breath hitched. “This looks bad. You could have a cracked rib.” “It’s not broken.” “You don’t know that.” I grabbed the first-aid kit from the cabinet and returned, standing between his legs as he remained seated. “Take a deep breath.” He did, eyes never leaving my face. “Does that hurt?” “Only when I breathe,” he said dryly.

CIARA The pain in my shoulder woke me up. It was a sharp, deep ache that made it hard to even drag air into my lungs, and every time I tried to shift my weight, my limbs felt completely pinned down against the mattress. Right next to my head, a heart monitor was beeping too fast, the loud rhythm making my skull throb.

I leaned closer until we were breathing the same air. The pain hit like a heel slamming into my chest. I yanked back, smothering a sharp cry. The pain twisted and cut through my sternum like an auger, sharp and cold and radiating outward through my ribs, up my throat, behind my eyes. I gasped, one hand flying to my chest. I couldn’t breathe. Caius was on his feet before I'd finished gasping. His hands caught my arms. "What happened? What's wrong?" I couldn't speak. The dull haze of liquor was gone. The pain was fading slowly, pulling back to a dull throb at the base of my spine, warning me.

“Stomped?” “It was—” I start. Danika speaks fast, protective. “Ryan. He panicked. He—” Dante’s face goes blank. That’s worse than anger. The doctor gestures. “May I?” I lift the hem of my dress enough to show bruising blooming like ink across my side. The doctor presses gently. I grit my teeth. “No crepitus,” he murmurs. “I don’t feel a fracture, but you’ll be sore. If you have sharp pain when breathing, dizziness, coughing blood—”

The only light came from the synchronized glare of four twenty-four-inch matte-black diagnostic monitors, casting a pale, geometric grid of white and amber luminosity across my hands. My right side was a localized zone of white-hot agony. Every time the diesel engine of the van idled too roughly against the cracked asphalt of the alleyway behind the industrial textile mill, a sharp, sickening spike of pain shot through my lower rib cage, a brutal reminder of the physical confrontation with Jeremy at Level Zero twelve hours earlier. The medical binder around my torso was wrapped so tightly it restricted my lung expansion to less than sixty percent of its normal volume, forcing my breathing in

"Get up. Again." "You... you really didn't lie about the 'not going easy' part," I wheezed, rubbing my chest as I forced myself back into a defensive stance. Each breath felt like swallowing broken glass. My ribs throbbed with a deep, bone-deep ache that promised spectacular bruises later.

I'm sure she was worried. I looked around when I spotted the button over my left side. I sighed, reaching that button seemed like a lot of work right now. I took a deep breath before leaning towards my left to reach the button. I felt a scalding pain in my left shoulder and I couldn't help it but I cried out in pain. That would get a nurse's attention because it was semi-cry and part growl. My right hand touched my left shoulder to numb the pain and I felt a padding of bandages in my shoulder. Was my shoulder the reason I was in the hospital?

Where I was stabbed is bleeding, my ribs on my right feel sensitive and throbs like a beating heart, but the fact that I am still breathing is good news. I hail a cab, the guy flinches at my movements and clothes, but quickly changes when I hand him a few hundreds and the piece of paper. “Take me there,” I croak.

His breathing shallow. “Daniel, stay here,” I instructed. “I need space to work.” Daniel nodded, retreating to the side, his expression unreadable but tense. I leaned over him, examining his bruises, noting the swelling. “We need to stabilize the shoulder first,” I murmured, my voice calm but urgent. My hands moved with practiced precision, wrapping the arm gently to minimize movement and reduce swelling. I applied a cold compress, my fingers brushing against the hard planes of muscle.

I tried to take the knife in my hand, but it was far from my reach, and I was unable to move my hand. I can feel the pain building up in my shoulder and ribs, but I can't see the person in front of me as my vision is blurry because of tears.