by Isabella Smith
One day, I was sitting in a classroom. It was school, fourth hour- arts. Now i know, it shouldn't be dangerous, but I tend to make things dangerous for me. So anyway as the bell hit our ears, I took out all tools that were necessary, for the hour. I dunno water paint, paper, scissors, glue, pencils, color pencils and stuff like that. So i take the paper, color it out, take the other paper and the glue to glue the two papers to each other. But the glue lid got stuck. I needed that glue. Now i think, Bella you idiot, why couldn't you just borrow it from someone else, but my mind wasn't able to make that decision at the time… So i took the scissors and tried to open it with force. Suddenly my vision faded to black and white, i think, and the only color I saw was red, splashing all over my table, clothes and my poor unglued drawing. So i casually get up, holding my finger tight and walk over to a person standing closest to me. I whisper, My finger is bleeding really bad. And as soon as I said that I realized, that it is actually happening. My sight that was renewed with a new ,,pic,, from the brain every three seconds now fully functioned. I started panicking and wobbled around till I got to the sink. I must of looked ridiculous, lol. Still didn't feel any pain and was still kind of out of it, as I watch the red stream roam thru the flesh, ripping it even more away from the bone, than it already was. I was emberaced. The teacher was comforting me, which felt even weirder that the whole thing and the children, actually, I’m pretty sure they just got back to their seats and just ignored me. Accept the girls sitting next to me, my sister, my best friend and a couple more people. I leaned on the sink, filling it with blood, I started feeling nauseas. As more blood rolled in, I told myself that if I wash it away it won't be there. So i pouring water on the blood and when I saw it didn’t work, my anxiety rises and I think I threw up. Well I washed it away and got a napkin, put it on my wound and sat down. I gained cautiousness as the pain started pulsing in my thom. My teacher asked me if I want to go home, but my laziness overpowered my weakness. So I said no and left. I was camouflaged with the walls a couple more hours, but eventually I got some color.
I hoped that there wouldn't be a scar on that finger, but when I look at it now, I visualize a fun (though painful) experience.
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