I couldn't breathe; at least not very well. Pains in my chest caused me to sit down and gasp for breath. All this because I laughed at the internet?
I took a deep breath. More pain.
This wasn't happening. I wasn't ready to die.
"Dude, you all right?", John looked sincerely concerned, a first for me.
I shook my head, the pains were worse and I couldn't talk anymore. I was getting dizzy and it was hard to move. I was terrified. They had to call my Mother. They needed to get me help.
"Carl, call his house. I don't think he's okay. He's red in the face."
Carl rushed off and in only a few moments he came back, "She called a cab. It will be at his house in a few moments."
What? Why my house? Why not here? I needed it now. I tried to pull myself to my feet because I'm not the type to give up.
A person can go for a long time with an injury with out having much problem. How ever, there comes a point when it's just too much and the human body can not function like it used to. I was at that point, so it took me almost a minute to get to my feet.
"You can't walk." John walked over and put his arm under mine, and let me lean on his shoulder.
We began the trek back to my house which was three blocks away. The further we went, the weaker I got and the more pain with every breath. As we walked, John kept taking more and more of my weight until he was practically carrying me.
John carried me more than two blocks to the cab.
The hospital told me that I would be okay, it was a common lung issue.
When I asked him why he did that after I got out of the hospital, he just looked at me, "You would have done the same."
All I could do was smile and say, "Damn straight."
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