There’s something wrong with my ankle.
I know I shouldn’t be able to see the bone. I’m certain the blood is supposed to be inside my body not pooling bright red on the tiles of my kitchen.
I don’t feel anything.
I remember everything.
Running into the house, into my kitchen, grabbing the biggest knife I could find but being completely unprepared to use it on the man attacking me.
It was Omar Prasad, my neighbour. He’s a pharmacist.
He was a pharmacist.Continue reading “The collapse”