Karmic Bitchslap - TWC Week 1

(This post is in response to the Trifecta Writing Challenge, utilizing 33-333 words to expound upon a one-word prompt. This week: Summon)


Karmic bitchslap.

That’s what I told myself as I laid there in the street, the copper taste of blood still lingering in my mouth. I winced as my swollen tongue made out a chip in my front tooth, but I dared explore no further, because it just hurt too damn much. I peeled apart my glued eyelids. The sun had indeed come up. I only hoped it was Saturday morning.

This is the part where most normal people would start crying. Most normal people would feel victimized and be asking themselves, “Why me?” They’d be filing police reports and calling up personal injury attorneys. Not me. I know exactly why the fuck this happened to me and I fucking deserve it.

But the fact that I can accept it still pisses me off. That...and the fucking banging.

Now, whether the banging came from the outside world or my own self-medicated demons didn’t matter at this point. The cacophony in my head was maddening. And either the ground -- or I -- smelled like piss, so I braced my pride and tried to pull it together. My bony hip cracked against the gravel as I summoned the strength to move. My thin wrists buckled under the weight of my body. For once I was actually kind of angry for being so skinny. That was probably because of the drugs...but we’ll get into that later. For now, I just had to find out where in the hell I was. And where the fuck I thought I was going to go from here.