Let's talk about pain, let's talk about pain, baaaaaby. Let's talk about pain!

Dave, please ignore my hysterical laughter right now. I'm on drugs. I DO understand that those aren't the original lyrics, but I couldn't resist! Ha!

As you could probably guess, today's topic is pain.

Pain is defined as an 'unpleasant feeling' or something like that – I am currently too lazy to try and maneuver my broken leg out of bed to get the dictionary and the net is down….so…that's the best you are gonna get. The only reason I even have my laptop and my notebook right now is because Mello feels guilty enough to grab it for me.

Oh, and by drugs, I meant prescription meds. They make me feel loopy most of the time.

My rant on pain can wait, here is the story of what happened. Cause, without the story, it will seem very out of the blue.

So, someone, referred to from here on out as AA (Albino Asshole, in the words of my friend), 'decided' to score better than Mello on a test – again. Except, this time, AA beat Mels in a race. As in, a gun shot in the air, you start behind this line and go to that line as if you opened the nine circles of hell and all the creatures are pouring out after you.

Suffice to Mello wasn't happy.

Now Dave, you're probably wondering how this relates in the slightest to pain, let alone my broken leg. I'll tell you.

AA won and Mello was Pissed. With a capital 'P'. No one beats him at sports, it is kinda a rule. Mello dominates at sports. This story really starts when my dearly affectionate friend stood up to his full height of five foot four inches, 164 and a half centimeters, and started screaming about how AA cheated in a race. Mello's fists were balled at his sides and even from my position on the other end of the field I could see the spit flying.

"I have not cheated. Perhaps Mello underestimated me because I have not shown an affinity for running in previous attempts." AA said, doing that weird curling thing with his hair.

Wrong thing to say buddy, wrong thing.

(Note: Never, EVER shift the blame to an angry Mello – you might as well slap a hungry grizzly with the salmon you just took from him.)

And, much like that grizzly bear, Mello reacted in violence. With a painful sounding smack, AA was on the floor, his head jerking to the left. In less than two seconds, my dear blond friend was on the ground punching the poor guy's face in.

And here comes my idiotic mistake.

Before I even really knew what I was doing, I was sprinting across the field to the fight. Honestly, now that I think back on it, I think that this was the first time I've run full out. Huh.

Anyways, I was running towards them at full speed. Mello had AA on the ground. Normally I'd probably make a remark about how Mels was straddling the guy, but this wasn't the time. With each punch, blond hair swayed one way or the other. The strangest thing was that AA hadn't retaliated – not even once. He was closing his eyes, and was a little rigid, but other than that he hadn't done a thing to protect himself.

This, of course, brought me skidding to a stop in confusion.

Like, seriously. Why?

The guy was probably in tremendous pain – heck – I could already see bruises forming.

I didn't have long to think about it though because I'd apparently skidded too close for the mauler's liking. He kicked out backwards.

Now, the doc told me that under normal circumstances, my leg probably wouldn't have broken, probably been bruised at the bone and all, but not broken. Yeah, they didn't know just how strong Mello kicks.

I remember buckling to the ground and pulling my knee up to my chest. I remember it feeling off and there being a shooting pain in my shin and calf. I remember hearing the sickening crack and my own cry of shock mingle with it. I remember Mello's head snapping around and his wide blue eyes as realization dawned on him

But I also remember the sheer emptiness in AA's eyes when he turned to look at the commotion.

He looked like he'd died and come back to life – only, his soul was missing this time around.

Now of course, after a few choice words from Mello and promises to exact revenge on AA, he picked me up (Mello is freakishly strong, I'm bigger than he is!) and jogged back to the nurse's area.

I must've passed out or something cause the next thing I really remember is the nurse calling my name repeatedly and my leg in a cast of sorts. So…yeah. That's what I think anyways. Mello refuses to talk about it, he just mutters and his face turns red.

I think he dropped me or something.

Anyways, that's how I ended up with bed rest for a week, minimal homework, and a guilty Mello 'serving' me as only he could.

I think that I'm getting tired now. My eyes are kinda drooping, (I wrote 'my ear are kinda droping' first time around. Whoops.) and I'm starting to do waaaaaaaaaay to many mistakes – I'm too lazy to just go back and correct them, obviously.

Plus, I'm writing in pen now, soooooooo…

…I shall do my first split rant! Next time will be the real rant on pain, this one's just history/backstory on it, I guess.

I'll pick this back up later then, Dave.

(Yawning while writing works – I can repeat that one.)