Breaking the Grip

Cold cloth under my back. Total stillness—until I forced my arm up. The metal chain on my head rattled against the fabric. Right next to me sat an odd object marked with '10' and a clump of blue material. Just seeing that blue made my teeth grit. I shoved myself half-upright, dragged a fist along the padded surface, and shoved the blue shape aside. It tumbled without a fight. I can move on my own now, and nothing pins me down.