A Punch with the Hand Causes a (Good) Punch with the Heart

I ran to the door and pulled at the handle, only to remember that he had locked it. I knew there was a window somewhere in this room. I searched frantically and found it on the other side of the room; not good. To get to it I would have to run by Dean again, something I really did not want to do. I took a ragged breath before sprinting by Dean towards the window. I screamed when I felt his strong hand grab my ankle. Why do I date muscular people again? I thought to myself as Dean began pulling me in towards him, a high shriek escaping from between my lips. He had me. I was done....no...no yet.

Dean had failed to take a hold of my other leg, so I kicked him in the face, a dull sickly crack resonating throughout the storage unit ,"Bloody murder!" I heard him yell. But I ignored him for I was free of his grip. I sprinted to the window and tried opening it....only it was jammed, "Oh my God." I stated flatly, "Is everything unopenable here?!" I groaned again when I came up with the only solution. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, preparing for the expected pain...then I punched my hand through the glass. I gasped, the pain unimaginable. But I ignored the pain and the blurry vision my tears were giving me and I crawled out, tasting freedom on my tongue as I breathed heavily, free of the death trap that that storage unit was only five minutes ago.

Dean was still inside, "Dammit Carlie I swear I'm going to get back at you for this big time! You better be measuring your life in days now!"

I ignored him again though; a bigger task was at hand for now...literally. I looked down at my hand to see instead a bloody mass, pieces of glass sticking out in some places. The entire sight made me nauseous though I've never been sickened by blood. "Who to go to?" I asked myself aloud.


"Oh my God Carlie what happened to you?" Seth was completly horrified....and a little pale from the sight of my hand. I merely shrugged though, "Punched my hand into a window."

"Why the hell would you do that?" I looked away from Seth and didn't answer him. The terrible thing is that sometimes silences answer questions on their own, "He didn't?" Seth monotonously asked.

"Well he didn't shove my hand into glass. That really was my own doing." I smiled sheepishly.

"But he's the one that made you want and or need to punch a window?"

I winced as I thought about the consequences of telling Seth more, "Yes."

"And you telling me this is worse for you?"

I winced again, "Yes."

Seth stared at me for a bit before whistling in disbelief, "That's real sick you know that? About as sick as your hand looks right now." I chuckled for a little bit, "Yeah that does look rather gross."

"C'mon I'm taking you to the hospital. They need to take out all the glass and from the looks of it you are definetly going to need stitches." I smiled half-heartedly, noticing how Seth stopped asking questions after he found out what could happen to me if Dean found out I told anyone, especially Seth.

So I just let Seth take my good hand as he helped me into his car to drive me down to the hospital.

And for a second I was afraid the doctors were going to think my heart was too big. The reason I know though is how it somehow inflated to what used to be unheard of widths....and it was all because of how Seth acted that very day.

The End

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