.. and consciousness on a working brain. So, given that I was in pain and appeared to be thinking quite logically, it seemed that I wasn't dead.Where ... was, I saw as my eyes became accustomed to the gloom, was in a medium sized room lying on a padded rubberish floor, head and shoulders braced against an equally padded wall. Illumination came from no very clear source but nonetheless things were definitely becoming brighter. I tried sitting up and as I did so the padding beneath and behind me. It was one of those occasions where someone on the undercard out drew the main event. The dressing room on the night of a fight is alive with nervous energy. Movies would have you believe that all fighters have a private dressing room, but that’s not the way it is, especially in the smaller venues. Sometimes, they’ll partition off parts of the locker rooms with curtains for the main event boys or for someone like my brother, who draws a crowd, but basically it’s just a locker room. You see or. Mothers! They make the world go round...Having a few minutes of privacy, I checked the time, and called Rebecca's cell phone."Hello," It hurt and thrilled me to hear Rebecca's sweet voice."Hi," I said hesitantly. "You don't know me, but my name is David Sanderson. I'm sixteen years old, and live in Deland, Florida – where Brian kept his boat, the BETH ANN." I took a deep breath and stepped out in faith that Rebecca loved me as much as she acted. "I woke up in a hospital bed yesterday afternoon. He didn’t say anything, he just smiled, took my hand in his and led me away a short distance to where he had a picnic blanket laid out on the grass. We still hadn’t spoken a word when opened up a small picnic hamper and took out a bowl of strawberries and pot of cream. He then selected the biggest and juiciest strawberry from the bowl, dipped it into the cream then gently brushed the fruit against my lips. I went to take a small bite but he pulled it away from me. He then went back to just.
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