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Crack. Drip. Drip. Drip. I hit the floor with a resounding boom.
“Oh no, not again!” my mom shrieked, lifting my head into her lap.
“Why is it always her?” my little brother whined, furious that I got all the attention, once again.
“I could’ve see this one coming,” my older brother yawned and walked away.
By now, the blood that gushed out of my head had stained my mother’s favorite pants, but she didn’t care. She was too worried to care.
I vaguely heard the frenzied shrieks of my family. They were all crowded in my small bathroom, their bodies mushed up against the walls.
I turned my head a little and saw my dad screaming into a phone that was pressed up to his ear.
I heard the sirens of the ambulance coming closer and closer. The drone of the siren getting louder and louder.
The red and blue lights flashed across the walls. The pretty lights made me dizzy and made my head throb even more.
That was the last thing I saw before I blacked out.
- by NeonSun245 |
- Non Fiction
- | Submitted on 12/19/2009 |
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Comments (3 Comments)
- dashing228 - 12/19/2009
- idk for you to expand it before posting it online..?
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- NeonSun245 - 12/19/2009
- well it's short and it was off of an essay so really what do you expect?
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- dashing228 - 12/19/2009
- Really awesome Kirsten [: haha i wouldve liked to know why/how she cracked her head open.. so yeah [:
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