Out Cold

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"Duffy…Duffy…do you know where you are?" Smitty said.

"Shit, right on the chin. Did you see his head whip, around?

Shit," some other guy said.

I went to sit up and felt my head slosh around like a bowl filled with some sort of goo.

"No, no, no, don't try to sit up. Lie back down," Smitty said. They pushed me back down, but they did it gently and I didn't resist. I knew I was in a gym with painted red walls. I heard the sounds of the gym though they were off a bit and the place had a hush to it. Things were happening and I knew what was going on-sort of any way. I felt removed from it.

"I want to get to the hospital. Which one should I take him to?" Smitty asked, but he wasn't talking to me. He was talking about me.

I sat up straight fast and the blood rushed to my head with a gigantic throb. It wasn't painful in a sharp, burning pain. It was dull and livable.

"Whoa, don't get up," Smitty said.

I didn't like the sound of hospital. I got up from the sitting position to show everyone I was all right.

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