Grounded

His eyes shifted as he stifled a yawn, and tried to turn over. He stopped his efforts the instant he felt the sharp, penetrating sting to his upper leg. He forced his eyes open, but saw nothing but the long grass in front of him. He calmly shut his eyes again, trying to shift his weight forward, but his leg prevented him from doing so again. He wanted to scream, but he no longer had the energy. He laid there quietly, unmoving, as he held in his pain and waited for someone to come. Anyone.

He reached a hand out in front of him and grabbed at the grass, clasping his fist tightly around a few blades, to show he did still have some sort of strength in him. He pulled, tearing it straight from the ground and letting the wind carry it away. How he wished the wind could carry him away. He made a grab for more of the blades of grass, until he felt the pain, much stronger, slam down onto his hand and fingers. He let out a muffled scream, for his face was still half buried in the dirt as he tried to pull his hand away. All he managed was to shift his head to one side, to which he felt the heavy blow.

[220 words]