The hospital floor looked like a crime scene. The sheets and pillows were coated in red, brown, and pretty much every other color. Sarah's sneakers, which she never took off, were soaked all the way through in blood, and so were my socks. Somewhere, someone has a picture of me holding up my bloody socks, grinning as though I'd landed a 40-pound steelhead trout.
"How about getting in the bed now?" Kim asked Sarah.
The group helped get Sarah onto the pristine white bed, which wasn't pristine for long. It turns out that the last push, during the ring of fire, was a doozy, and Sarah ripped from one end to the other...
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