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 Bloody Head If you’re wondering why I would be looking at a closet with a hole and a little red stain, here’s the story. It all started when we were having a race in a place called KEEPS, and this girl was ahead of me. I wanted to tap her on the back and say, “I give up.” But instead of that, I she ran headfirst into the closet. (At least she won the race.) Suddenly there was only silence in the room. Then there were gasps in the room. Staff was running to the kitchen, trying to find a wet cloth. She cried a very high pitched sound. The smell of tears and blood stung my nose. Luckily, the October wind blew the smell away. I looked at her face. It was beyond what my eyes could handle. “What happened,” she said. Nobody said a word. “Well” she said impatiently. It was a brutal sight to look at her. I wanted to go to a different room, but guilt weighed me down. Seeing her head made me feel scared. Now I will always be carful of my actions. Safety is always first. Article posted November 28, 2011 at 08:45 AM • comment • Reads 480 • see all articles |
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