He shoved me aside with brute force, grabbed the woman by the collar and flung her out .…
Since he used a considerable amount of strength this time, when my back slammed into the armrest of the opposite seat, a sharp, piercing pain shot through my spine.
As for the woman, after being thrown by Larry, she crumpled to the floor and her loose pants slid down to her knees.
Instantly, I saw the scar on her leg, running from her knee all the way down to her Achilles tendon.
The woman's face went pale. She curled up on the floor, clutching her calf. Beads of sweat the size of beans rained to the floor.
It was a stark contrast to Daisy, who had been moaning for a long time, but still had a rosy complexion.
I knew this woman was in excruciating pain, so I forced myself to stand.
I pointed at the wound on her leg, looked at Larry and said in an increasingly urgent tone, "Larry, do you have any conscience? Look at this woman's leg. She really had surgery. Do you think it's okay to treat her this way?"
"Get out of my seat! Or I'll call the train attendant!"
I rubbed my lower back, which was aching from the collision and waved at Larry.