Yesterday old wounds ripped open. I had thought they were long gone.

The pain seared into my soul, leaving a shell behind.

A baby rabbit with his foot caught in a trap screamed inside my head.

I hide it well.

I have had lots of practice hiding behind a mask. I reverted to what was the norm.

Luckily, most of the feeling is gone from my right leg. It made the first thirty minutes a leisurely game of hide how you really feel inside my head.

The second thirty minutes broke me. I wasn't ready for the gush of memories and pain to swallow me whole and not spit me out even to breathe.

We hit all the best emotions during those thirty minutes.

Pain and I are best friends, so that was not a surprise.

Deep disgust showed me who the boss was. They became angry, though, because I did not let it show.

Caring went out the window after four minutes. They knew they were being crushed and beaten beyond what was conceivable. They covered their head while hoping to survive as a spark. Their lessons would start again if the host made it out alive.

Shame had a field day rubbing salt into all the open wounds it could find. I can still hear the tiny evil laughter they left behind.

The onlooker showed no compassion for what they saw even though they could have done their job with less gusto and had the same results. They waited until forty minutes had passed to tease me with this news. I knew then they did not see a human lying near them.

Made even more apparent when they never offered help or my cane, which was a step away, while I struggled past the pain to sit up.

Grabbing my cane, my body hunched over to protect what was left. I put one foot before the other with as much dignity as possible.

I made it home.

I am not in one piece yet.

The trial is familiar.

It will be walked once again.

I will come out the victor.

There is no other choice.