Jax
Three weeks. Three of the longest weeks of my life. That's how long they kept me in the hospital. I slept for most of it, but the time seemed to last forever, and I was sure the nurses were giving me extra medication to knock me out, so they didn’t have to deal with me by the end of it. I didn’t mean to be difficult, but I was ready to go the f**k home, and they kept me there. I was fine. Sore sure, but I would live. But no, they kept saying because of where the second bullet hit me, they had to keep an eye on me, and I couldn’t do a lot of moving around until it heeled a bit more. I hated it. From the outside, I had healed, and the doctor had even removed the stitches. But on the inside, everything still hurt. It hurt to move my left shoulder. My right side hurt if I moved wrong. My
