Day 2- Stab Wound. This is going to be me

Ah, man! I thought as blood dropped down my favorite sweater and jeans. Again?

I hated getting stabbed. I loved stabbing people, but getting stabbed was not on my favorite things to do list.

But, no matter how much I hated it the pipsqueak of a man that I had strangely attracted to ten minutes ago had stabbed me in the side. Truth be told, I did spill milk on his designer sneakers, so I let him get away without to much of a chase.

I didn't know where I was, somewhere in an alley.

I sunk down and watched my life drain out.

I hoped someone would find me before I died.

Or did I?

Maybe not?

Oh, well, I thought as it blacked out. Doesn't matter now.

Sorry, this is short.