*Rafi's POV*
The streets were rather busy that day. Cars were rushing by me, and I was constantly dodging people on bikes. A few times, I almost fell flat on my butt, but I caught myself before that could happen. If I did collide with someone at one point, I wouldn't be at all surprised.
I happened to be minding my own business, thinking about Benny, Kostas and Lia when there was the whizzing of bike gears. I assumed someone must've been riding at top speed, but they weren't anywhere near me. Well, I was very wrong.
I was looking up at the clear sky, and when I looked straight ahead, the bike was directly in front of me. Before I could avert it, the person on it knocked me down, and ran over my stomach. "Watch out, you ass!," they shouted over their shoulder before riding off.
"Ow," I moaned to myself, trying my best to sit up. My back was sore from the fall, and my stomach felt bruised. I could barely breathe it hurt so much. I didn't like it at all. Standing up was a challenge as well; it brung a burning feeling to the pit of my stomach. As I started to walk, I realized I had a limp, for my left leg felt extremely unusable. I considered going into a walk-ins welcome doctor's office to get it looked at, but it would be too time consuming. Besides, the pain would eventually have to go down, now wouldn't it?
While limping down the street and thinking, I decided it would be best to find shelter to give my leg and stomach some rest. I crossed the street, and found a good place to hide under a large staircase. Going over, I knelt beside it, and looked around to make sure it was safe. As I observed, a cinder block on the edge of the staircase fell, and landed square on my right hand with a loud "THUD!" "Owwwwwww! Goddamngoddamngoddamn!," I cried out in complete pain. With my free hand, I rolled the cinder block off of my hand. Once it was off, the only thing I could see on that hand was a ton of red, purple, and black bruises, as well as a few bloody cuts. I picked it off the ground, and tried moving it. It shot a thunderbolt of pain down my fingers, and into my wrist pulse. "What am I to do with myself?," I asked my battered-up fingers. That's when I remembered I had a random roll of gauze in my jacket pocket. I reached in, and pulled it out. Gently, and very very heedfully, I cloaked my injured hand in the gauze. Though it wouldn't me fixing anything that may have been broken, it was protecting my wrist and hand from any more damage. With my hand situated, I crawled under the stairwell, pulled my knees up to my chest, and wondered to myself when I would get to see Ben again.