The Day I Got Stitches

            One day in Dubai, I was running in my cousin’s house and I fell on a glass table, and I shouted, “Mom, I have blood!” Everyone ran to me to take me to the hospital.

            Good thing the hospital was close. I thought I wasn’t going to survive. I was screaming, “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” I could see my insides and blood everywhere. There was blood all over the car and on my aunt’s hand.

 My hand and leg were opened, but then the doctor came. He came and saw me, he said, “You are doing a great job!” I saw him get thread to stitch the cut and get a knife to scrape the glass away. My aunt was crying. I was thinking of nice things like puppies and dogs hanging on little teacups and inside little socks to take my mind off the pain and what was happening. My brother was holding my other hand and I was biting it. He was asking me what I wanted to do when the stitches were done. I told him, “There is no time for that now.”  The doctor finished stitching my hand and I was shivering because I was scared. When it was over, I had to take medicine and it was disgusting. I spat it out and said, “ew, disgusting!”  The doctor finished stitching my hand and leg closed and they wrapped a cast for my arm and they put a bandage for my leg. I felt relaxed when it was over, but my pajama was all covered with blood.

I went home, changed my clothes, and played with my iPad.