I lay wheezing on my side, grateful, for once, for the tight wrap holding my undoubtably-broken ribs in place. A heavy black boot administered one last stomp to my thigh, spit hitting my face as they began to move away, laughing and congratulating each other. A soft, ragged whimper left my bleeding lips as I shifted minutely, paralysed in my foetal position by pain crashing through my body in waves.
I don't know how long I lay there, crying silently, watching the feet of the world pass me by. Nobody stopped, or even slowed down. In fact, some people even tried to speed up, as if my pain was contagious. Evening faded to dusk, and with it came the numb awareness that darkness was also creeping in on my vision.
I need to move. If I fall asleep, I'm done, I noted absently. A sense of calm and warmth was making my limbs heavy, though. Moving would be so painful. Maybe I'd be okay if I just didn't move.
A long, slow sigh escaped me. The footfalls were less now, with most of the port's patrons tucked away in taverns or brothels.
It was getting harder and harder to stay awake.
My eyes flickered and rolled, some primal part of me refusing to give in. Between slitted lids, my gaze fixed on a pair of heeled, confident boots that had begun to slow across the street.
I smiled softly despite myself, even as my vision faded entirely.
Somebody had stopped.