Finn
Twenty Years Ago
F*ck, f*ck, f*ck. I hurt, I think my ribs on the left side are broken. I sway on my feet like a drunk. I was sure the people that were walking by me probably thought I was.
I shake my head, it’s spinning. I think I have a concussion. I can barely see out of my right eye, it’s so swollen, and I think my nose is broken. Black spots are starting to hinder what vision I had left. I needed to lay down, but I can’t do it out in the open like this.
I walk into an alley, it smells of piss, vomit and rotting food. I don’t care. I was done.
I come to a pile of trash bags that look comfy, and I sit on the ground gingerly and lean against them. I put my bag beside me, there’s a lot of cash in it, some gold rings and necklaces and a gun. I leaned back into the trash
