It was the day after the last day of school. My parents went to work so they took us to my brother’s friend’s house. We had a fun time. We ate spaghetti, we played video games. In an hour or two we were going to the rec center to swim. But that never happened…

 We were playing a jail or tag game in his house. We were running around like fools. We all knew someone was going to get hurt. My brother and his friends trapped me in this room with an old french door. They were blocking me from getting out. I was trapped. Then I wanted to prove that I was stronger than them so I pushed the glass part on the French Door. I pushed it so hard that it broke. I felt the glass cut me. I thought it was just a scratch, but it wasn’t. There was blood dripping on the floor. There was blood everywhere. I screamed not of pain but horror. My friend’s dad came in yelled a little bit and I got a little scared. They took me to the bathroom. It wouldn’t stop bleeding. I put really hard pressure on it.

My dad came to the house. I was crying. We were lucky that the house was close to the emergency room. We put a towel over my arm and I put pressure on it. I wanted to take a look. I saw a big cut and you could see my tissue and muscle. I was freaked out. 

We got to the hospital. The nurses were nice. The nurses said I would 2-3 stitches but turns out the cut is really big and I would need 5 stitches. They numbed my arm so it won’t hurt during the process. I closed my eyes the whole time and looked away. I heard my skin. It sounded like rubber. When the process was done, it looked like there were spiders on my arm. I felt better that my skin would heal. 

It took a long time but now I have a scar on my arm. It always reminds me of the day I got hurt. I learned not to be a fool around glass.