At 8.21am on the 25th of September, Billy had been riding to school on his new BMX. He rode to school everyday and felt good about it. His teachers were always promoting healthy living and good eating, so riding to school was his exercise of the day.
As Billy turned at the junction where his favourite park and takeaway restaurant, 'Popeye's Chicken,' met, he noticed a lorry switching lanes beside him. The lorry was a beast of a vehicle, angrily changing gears as it got nearer and nearer to Billy. The huge front grill was nipping at Billy's leg, its lights flashing and squinting as it steamed down on the poor boy. He was cornered, Billy's eyes were full of fear, he knew that the lorry had won.
The sky turned black as the pain struck through his body, creatures from his darkest nightmares burrowed into his brain. The gremlins, wardrobe monsters, witches, three headed crazy eyed dogs and slobbering giant slugs. It was intense, wave after wave of hurt, like a punch to the stomach, over and over again. Punch, punch, punch, punch.
The table was cold and uncomfortable, strange people surrounded Billy as he was falling in and out of consciousness. The pain was unbearable, Billy's thigh was throbbing, but he felt nothing below the knee. A large needle kept pounding into his arm, and the tall strangers around him became blurry and alien like. Their voices were muffled and low. Billy was scared; his arms were shaking and his eyes were flickering with fear. Flashbacks of the crazed lorry jolted through his bones, its large teeth-like grill and the steamed windscreen, as if it was overwhelmed with anger. Then he remembered. A tear fell down Billy's cheek. He remembered being scraped from the pavement, like the leftovers from a Sunday roast. And he remembered his dismembered leg being left behind, perfect picking for the vultures that were circling inside his shattered mind.