He walked briskly through the streets; a few people were still hanging around, but Tom avoided their eyes, refusing to acknowledge their existence. Some snarled at him, others spat in disgust. Screw them, screw them all he thought angrily.
Wanting to get everything over with as soon as possible, he hurriedly crossed the road, neglecting to look both ways.

Suddenly, a bright flash, accompanied by the vicious groan of a horn, it presumably belonged to a truck. Tom was sent flying forward, it was times like this when he was grateful for the fact he was a leper, unable to feel even the slightest pain, this did not console him much, however. He hit the ground with a thump and saw the vehicle drive away into the night.

Tom did not know the extent of his injuries; he needed to thoroughly check his body. Struggling to get up, it came to his surprise that his body would not respond, looking down he noticed a large pool of crimson red blood.