Not a husband

Waking up

I wake up. That’s it. Because currently all of my mental composure is at work. The amount of pain running through my body is unimaginable. I haven’t even opened my eyelids yet.

Because they are so heavy. I can’t pull them up. I remember it. That time when I woke up midway through the surgery.

I was fully conscious and I screamed. It was a deathly wail. But soon I fell into a deep slumber. I don’t know how many days have passed. Or has even a second passed?

That’s how fuzzy my mind actually is. But laying here won’t help. Fortunately, I am conscious again. Meaning, I can focus on healing myself.

Normally, it would be impossible for me to survive that attack. A normal human would have died right away. Because I was caught in a barrage of bullets.

I tried to avoid getting hit in my vitals but the damage kept on piling. And I had lost way too much blood.

Clinically, physiologically and even realistically my survival is impossible. Because the bullets fired at me were lead bullets. It wou