3 AM Epiphany, Writing exercise 3

The knocking on the cabin's door was slightly muffled by the strong wind running beside it. Mrs. Bledsoe had an incident when she was a child that resulted in her always sleeping practically fully clothed. She remembered the story briefly as she rose, paused and waited for the pounding to begin again.
She hated referring to the portal as the 'front door.' Sure, it faced where she put her car, but it was a sliding glass that resembled the back door of her house in Colordo Springs. But here, it was the main entrance. With the curtain drawn, she could11 only see the outline of a man rapping away.
Without a chain on the door, all she could do was pull back the curtain some and hope he was not strong.
He was not. He was bleeding.
"Get in here! Oh my goodness!"
The young man held his side as if a violent apendisitis had taken away his lower right half. She signaled to him to her chair and pushed her laptop and several binders to floor. Lowering them softly to the pages that had been discarded there prior she realized she was not helping the poor youth.
She had him bandaged better then she remembered.
There was a pause where it appeared both caught their breath.
"Phone?"
"Oh no, there is none, I'm sorry. See, I come up here to get away for a bit, but, well, I have a car--let's get you down to Estes. THey have an emergency room."
"No, just hold on."
"You want to tell me what happened?"
"Not really. But, I don't, I'm afraid I might forget," the wound was superficial, a scratch. He was panting some upon entry, but he gained control quickly, respectfully. But his skin was still flushed. He still looked to the windows more than at her.
"I was with, I was with this girl. And she wanted to drive up here, you know, see the mountains. And, crap, seriously, you are not going to buy this at all, but, like she made," he smiled at something beyond her," a freegin picnic. A picnic! Sandwiches and everything! And, fuck, I started eating, we watched some deer go by and," he stopped and looked out the window.
"Look, we need to get you do a hospital, make sure you're okay."
"Fuck, no, we can't, it might be too late."
"Too late?"
"She poisoned me! I burped, see, burped of all things! Over a freegin' bolongna sandwich. And when my chest, I don't know, sizzled, I knew something wasn't, I guess, right. I thought it was heartburn, but no, no, NO," he began to tear up. Beneath his red hue, the face was paled.
"What happened to you?"
"I puked! And it was all blood and pink stuff!" She stepped back and he moved his leg to the side, revealing a wet portion of his jeans that revealed technically nothing. Other then something wet happened there.
"I ran, I just ran and started chasing me, and, like, the poison was still part way in. I ran and she jumped on my back. I fell and there was a fight and..."he looked again to the outdoors.
"What, oh dear God, what?"
"and, um, are you alone?"

This one did not have the intent I was supposed to have used....that I had an unreliable narrator and I was to have him do most of the talking. But I noticed my setup took longer then the actually presentation. ARGH.