It was nighttime already. Already? I’d been out for hours. Brought in unconscious by the ambulance, kept unconscious by the doctors. Time passed. The world moved on. But I was suspended between that alley and the death that had been denied to me. Once again, I was fucking helpless. Weak. Powerless. Pathetic. I couldn’t fight back. I couldn’t die. What the fuck was the point of any of it?
