I hear a pop, and the ground falls out from under me, then rushes for my face. My hands fly out to brace myself a second before I slam into the forest floor. I bite into my lower lip to keep from crying out as my ankle screams. Popping isn’t good. It’s never good. Glancing back, I curse at the fallen branch, hidden by fall foliage, that’s just wrecked my ankle. Shit.
You be stressing me outtttttt omg
