It seemed to him, that he was sitting there for hours. Around him everywhere was splattered blood mixed with throw-ups. Arounding darkness didn’t let him to evaluate and make a small recognition this dreadful scenery, which had been playing in his head. He started recalling his best moments of life, flops, his first great fuck with girl, and having sex with a dorm-room-fellow. First shoot goal, first injury, his rapidly fall. The thought about his decline has aroused him. He decided to wake up form sluggishness, do something, get to know what had happened, where he is and what for. Michel started searching the floor completely blind.
Eventually he found something, something sharp., guess it was scalpel. In his mind appeared some thoughts, including this the easiest way form situation he was. The suicide would have everything solved.
He picked up the scalpel, and came up to locked door. In the keyhole he started maneuvering in order to move anything inside it, any machinery. It takes minutes, very long minutes but nothing has happened. Suddenly he heard the footsteps, behind the door, the sound of keys, humans words. The light creeping inside the Michael’s room suddenly blacked out, with noise of putting key, opening door. “The door are open, you are able to go out now”- Michael thought. Keeping the scalpel in his right hand he decided to run toward door. At this time the aim of his running and the reason of his suffer had been opened. On the other side appeared a big black man who was holding a gun.
Surprised Michael wanted to stop, ask this black nigger what has happened, but he run so fast, he couldn’t stop. He slided on slippery floor and run into a big black man wall. Having known what just happened, he felt on his body warm liquid, and the light inside a corridor showed him his scalpel inside an eye of a big, black guy…
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