Free Crowam 281 by Frank Nunez

this time the pain got the best of me. “How are you enjoying your shower, Yank?”
    “Go fuck yourself.” The room went black after Tom’s final punch. The last thing I remembered was falling to the ground in a sea of laughter. I don’t remember how long I was out before I came to. I began opening my eyes when I saw Charles standing over me.
    “Jake, Jake are you alright? Say something.” Charles voice just irked me. I almost wanted to go back to sleep. When I awoke I found myself in a puddle of blood. Owen Stood behind Charles. Charles was wearing a towel, but somehow still exposed himself to me.
    “Would you put some clothes on!”
    Charles and Owen helped me up.
    “Are you ok?” Owen looked genuinely terrified.
    “I’m alright.”
    “You took a hell of a shot to the head,” Charles said.
    “Courtesy of my best pal, Tom.”
    “That giant ignoramus,” Charles said.
    Owen grabbed a towel that hung on the towel rack and wrapped it around a wound near my eye. I struggled to regain my balance. They helped me to a nearby stool. “How are we feeling?”
    “Like hell, but thanks for asking.”
    “We should take you to the nurse,” Owen said.
    “I’m exhausted. I just want to go to bed.”
    “You should have that wound looked at,” Owen said.
    “I’ll be fine.” I made a makeshift bandage out of some dry towels. Thomas was sound asleep. The pain of my lost battle put me right to sleep.

Chapter 9
    When I woke up the next morning, I had a throbbing headache. I noticed blood all over my pillow. I grabbed my head and blood covered my hands. The towels were soaked red.
    “Good lord, what happened to you?” Thomas said as he woke up.
    “Rough night last night.”
    “How did that happen? You should have that looked at.”
    I should have listened to Owen. I was just too tired. My head was throbbing. My face felt like a giant wound, bleeding from the seams.
     
    I sat in the examining room, waiting for the nurse to arrive. A packet of ice and some gauze covered my wound. There was another boy waiting outside complaining of having diarrhea, most likely a symptom of food poisoning from the meals they served us, which could have been dog food for all I knew. I believe I saw him go to the bathroom at least three times since waiting there. Every time he opened the door leaving the bathroom, an odor, something awful, escaped into the open air. I had to cover my nose and mouth so I wouldn’t pass out from what could be confused for mustard gas.
    The door creaked open. A petite blond entered, with blue eyes and pearly white teeth. She didn’t look too much older than me. I felt at ease when she came in. “How are we feeling today, Mr. Hudson?” Her accent was intoxicating, pulling me right in. Her nurse’s outfit was modest, yet was flattering to her figure.
    “Good, I guess.”
    She removed the blood stained gauze, exposing my fresh wound. “That’s a nasty cut you got there. When did this happen?”
    “Last night.”
    “How?”
    “Does it matter?”
    “Of course it does. Were you in a fight?”
    “I fell?”
    “You fell?”
    “Sure did.”
    “A strapping young man like you doesn’t fall so easily.”
    “You think so, huh?”
    She examined the wound, cleaning the blood off of it. Her hands were soothing, even with the rubber gloves. “Well, you’re lucky. You don’t need stitches. This is going to hurt a bit.” She put some rubbing alcohol on a clean gauze pad and placed it on my wound.
    The pain was excruciating. I thought I was going to scream for the world to hear. I would have shoved her if she wasn’t so pretty.
    She removed the gauze and bandaged up my wound. “Looks like you’re going to live for another day, Mr. Hudson. Hopefully you won’t have any more nasty falls.”
    “Can I tell you something?”
    “Of course.”
    “You don’t seem like you belong here.”
    “Why do you say that?”
    “You’re nice.”
    “I don’t belong here because I’m nice?”
    “Nobody else here