Jack was just standing there when the first kick came.
Out of nowhere, pain flared up in his stomache.
The impact, felt deep in his chest cavity, knocked him over.
Lying on his side, arms wrapped around his stomache, legs up in a fetal position, he gasped for air.
Another kick and his kidneys felt like they were stuck in his throat.
Another kick and he could almost feel his lungs flatten against his back.
Another kick and his belly button ruptured.
No blows came anywhere else; all were centered on his digestive system.
Weakly looking up, trying to understand, the final insults.
Slaps. Across his cheeks. Burning his face. Stinging his eyes.
Uncomprehensively, he opened his mouth, trying to formulate the words, unable to understand the reason.
Why the pain? Why the hurt? Why the anguish?
No one would tell him.
The mirror stared back blankly, unfeeling, as Jack writhed, trying, and failing, to conquer the pain, wondering if it would ever go away…