Breaking The Rules: Book 2

Chapter 29: Hitting A New Rock Bottom

𝚆𝚎𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚂𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟽𝚝𝚑
Griffin POV

Outside, thunder rumbles.

The foundation of the house shakes with the intensity, like a child cowering in fear of the storm brewing over the coast. Beyond the sound of my running fans and sound machine, I can hear the sound of rain begin to pummel the siding.

Not one second later, the six-thirty alarm on my phone begins to chirp.

You've got to be kidding me, I think to myself as all of the sounds slice through my sleep. It feels like I slept for a total of thirty minutes last night. There's no way it's already time for school.

Muttering curses, I roll off my left side to find where my phone escaped last night. The damn thing is still chirping and buzzing, lost in the comforter.

As the anesthesia of sleep wears off, pain replaces it.

I repeatedly blink, trying to get my damn eyes to adjust to the darkness of my bedroom, and ignore the pain. It's nothing that I haven't felt before. That alarm is really starting to piss me off.

Slowly, I pull myself up onto my elbow and drag the deadweight of my cast out of the dip it created for itself in the mattress.

The alarm keeps chirping as indescribable agony lights my leg on fire.

I gasp and freeze like someone shot me.

I've become accustomed to the numb pain around my knee. However, this morning it's so lifeless that it makes my stomach turn. I can feel where the tissue in my leg is seared to the metal knee, where the screws are buried into my bone. It's like everything is ripping apart. I'm afraid to move in case blood is soaking the sheets.

My ears are roaring so loud that I don't hear the annoying chatter of my phone anymore. Not when my entire left leg is trying to turn itself inside out.

I have no idea what the fuck I did to it last night. The only thing I know is that I'm about to be sick.

Thunder snaps over the house, immediately followed by a crack of lightning. The blackout curtains on my window don't block out the quick flash of light.

As I roll to the right side of the bed, my left knee completely stiffens and refuses to move. The knee in that leg may be artificial, yet no amount of trying can force it to move. My entire leg retaliates as if it's at war against my body.

"Holy fuck," I cuss through gritted teeth. The torment of this sends hot and cold flashes over my skin. I feel my bedside table blindly for the cane I had set against it last night.

I'm so desperate for it that my hand strikes against the aluminum, sending it to the floor. As it falls, it must catch on other cords because half of the items on my bedside table crash to the floor with it.

Son of a bitch.

I don't have time for this.

Cold sweat races down my face as I whip the blankets off my body. Lightning strikes again, igniting my room. There's no blood on my legs and no signs of harm other than the sight of them trembling.