Stabbed in the back, somewhere between the shoulder blades, close to that center place where I couldn't quite reach.
Wasn't a mortal wound, wasn't the kind of thing that would kill me immediately, but it was enough to hurt like hell. Can't say whether the rage that came with the blade was because of the physical or the mental pain.
Probably doesn't matter. I just know what it did, how it felt and what it made me want to do.
"When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun'." — Groucho Marx
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