Broken Hand.

I walked in and grabbed a tray, cooly finding out where I’d sit. Yawning, I watched Mikael put a pile of grits on my plate. I smiled and walked, after some debating, to an empty table, sat, poked the grits, and started eating.

I finished in under five minutes, wiped my mouth, and walked away. I heard footsteps behind me, and assumed it was just the guys… again. Perverts.

Before I knew it, I was against the wall with my hands beside my head. My legs were free, however. I started kicking, just randomly, until he let go. Then a good punch to the stomach, and I ran.

And I stopped. I turned around, only to see dude’s little freinds knocking over stuff. I slapped one so hard he hit the wall and fell unconscious, the other one had a punch to his jaw that broke it…

And my hand.

View this story's 3 comments.