Hitting The Ground
I hit the ground hard and felt one of my teeth stab into my lower lip.
At first I struggled hard for the breath that had been knocked out of my stomach. Gasps screamed out of my mouth but were having no intake into my lungs. Each second feels like an hour when you are failing to breathe and slowly drowning in a mouthful of your own blood.
I coughed finally and the air resumed to flow. Dust on the concrete floor sucked up through my nose and into my mouth. The taste was like nothing I’d tasted before.
Grinding my teeth hard as I tried not to yell out, I could feel sand and dust shredding my gums. Dirt was mixing in with my bloodied lips. This was going to be hell on my teeth, I knew.
I tried to breathe more and lift my head to little avail. My forehead was scraped and when I lifted it off the floor and exposed it to oxygen I could feel the deep abrasion begin to burn. Soon what little energy I had mustered up to move was lost and my head fell back down onto the floor hard. Finally