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86

I didn't realize that I had lost consciousness until I had to fight to get it back.

If I napped or fainted as a result of an obvious concussion in my head, I didn't find out right away.

I knew at least that I was in a poorly lit place. There were no windows as far as my vision reached, but flickering shadows danced on top of the walls cold and impregnated with a strong mold. My senses had not yet returned with my conscience. I could, however, feel the swelling on my tongue and an unbearable pressure on the ankle of one of my legs. I had no idea which leg originated that pain, still considering myself abnormally oblivious to the basics of human survival instincts. I didn't even know if the pain was real.

Could something damn be real in the face of that situation?

My head seemed to float on top of my neck, as light and unstable as a feather to the blow of the winter wind. I tried to stretch one hand and immediately my whole body held back in a trembling and uncomfortable echo of pain. B
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