Walking on the cobbled stone of London was one of the things that calmed me. One of the only activities that calmed me. My anger issues meant that I took many of these calming walks. While walking, I tried to solely focus on the sounds of my sneakers hitting the immobile stones. I was slowly becoming calm, and more content than angry, or frustrated. I was slowly forgetting what made me angry enough to smash a vase, a mirror, and my knuckles.

Thinking back, I started feeling the numbing pain in my fist. I looked down and raised my hand, it was purple and still bruising. A small shard of mirror was stuck in my hand, and a slow trickle of blood trailed down my hand, and I watched as a drop fell onto the ground. Snapping out of my reverie, I ripped a small piece from the bottom of my shirt and pressed it against the wound after pulling the shard free from my hand. I took an elastic from my wrist and tied it around my hand so that the cloth was secure against the cut.

By then, parts of my hand were bruising in a sickly yellow green. I threw the bit of mirror onto the ground and tried to remember what had caused my anger. I wanted to know, I desperately wanted to know. I had a feeling in my gut that I needed to know, to resolve or reason with the situation I had no idea. I did know however, that I wanted to control my anger without the use of any retched pills or whatever they would put me on. I wanted to be independent of the artificial emotions that the psychologists would put me under.

Becoming hungry, and slightly frustrated I crossed the pavement street towards a nearby Mac's. I thought, I can grab a bag of chips or a sandwich. Afterwards I'll get a good night's sleep. I needed a good night's sleep.

Immersed in my thoughts, I began to unconsciously cross the street. Since I was focused on what was in my head, I was not aware of the sounds of a vehicle coming down the street, picking up small rocks and hurling them in random directions. I had not realized that it was getting brighter, an unnatural light coming closer and closer to where I was still slowly walking, not rushing as I should have been, in front of it. I did not notice that I could see in front of myself, but in front of myself was not what I should have realized. What I should have realized was that the thing about to change the course of the night, was directly to my left.

I had not felt the collision, I did not have time to blink. My head was no longer upward, but to my right. Tilted as though I was playing with a small child, or confused. But there were no small children, or anything for me to be confused about. I might have been tilting my head in confusion had I enough time to process the last milliseconds, but my head tilt was not voluntary.

There was a hard object, felt similar to a brick wall, that had collided with my shoulder knocking my entire upper body away from it. I could only really watch as my eyes fell towards the ground at an alarming speed. My eyes focused, for only a second, on a single pebble on the once calming pavement. It was smooth, old. It had been worn down for years, creating the almost perfect sphere. My arms fell towards it. Having no control my hands reached out in front of me, but maybe I was trying to catch myself before inevitably hitting the ground.

Then it stopped. I hadn't seen myself crash, or see any limbs sticking out in awkward positions. Because I had fainted. The last thing I saw before I blacked out was the supposed brick wall. The face of the persecutor, and the two bright white lights.

I only awoke once, only once after my first passing out. I had opened my eyes for no longer than a minute. My gaze settled above me, seeing the bright lights pass as the nurses either side of me ran. My eyes moved to my feet, seeing what direction we were moving away from. I only saw a desk, and the receptionist who only glanced up once. She gave me a small smile before looking down again. My eyes gazed back upwards. And I only thought of one person.