Day 6: Signs of destruction caused by my sister, allegedly

My sister has already explained when I was little that she ran up the stairs, and then I tried to follow her. I fell and got a gash on my head. Yes, I did trip up the stairs.

My mother said I never cried when I went to the emergency room or when they were giving me stitches. The only thing I remember is seeing these weirdly colored painting walls as I sat on the gurney on the way to the exam room. It had always made me assume that we went to the health clinic. Both my mum and my sister say that I was taken to the emergency room. since my memory is spotty at best. I am going to say they are probably right.

Maybe the memory converged, and we did have the stitches checked out at the clinic which is why I remember the paintings on the wall. I thought I remember seeing them when I was sitting on the gurney though. They were colorful pictures like animals at the circus. That is why I thought I had specifically gone to see someone at a children's section of the hospital. Maybe the walls were just painted with lovely murals, and I assumed it was paintings designed for a child, because I either was blind and thought I saw animals as I sped by, or I imagined the animals there because I thought that would make the wall cool.

(if anything, no one can ever say I didn't have a vivid imagination as a kid, and I still do sometimes.)

I remember getting a lollipop after I had the stitches. It was a green lollipop, and one of those safety-pops.

I still have a scar on my forehead where I got the stitches. At the time I was thinking there was about a million I had to have, it seemed a long time as I sat on the exam table for the doctor to slowly do the stitches. It seemed it took a longer time for him to take them out, which as I think about it seems like the next day, though I am sure it was actually a few weeks later.

Looking at the scar, I am sure it was only about three stitches though, or at least less than 10, since I am not sure how big the stitches were, or how much space between the stitches were there.

As she wasn't actually responsible for this scar, though she got the blame. I do have at least one scar that she is responsible for.

I am not sure how old we were. I want to say I was about 12 or 13, it was still when we lived in Arcadia. So, it was about middle school. We were doing something in the living room... I am not sure the thing we were supposed to be doing. What we were doing was playing with matches... or my sister was. I was sitting and watching her.

At one point she was lighting little pieces of wood or something, and letting them burn out. It may have actually been paper. It is hard to tell. Whatever she was burning, she ran out, and she picked up a random object off the floor which happened to be one of those q-tips (yes, I am sure they are not they weren't the actual brand, I can't think of what the object is called) with plastic handles, and cotton on both end.

For some reason, she handed it to me. I think she actually handed it to me so I could take the middle. Somehow, the burning cotton touched me, as soon as I took it the whole thing disintergrated into a small fire before going out as it hit on the floor, where we had been letting the little items fall into. So, I ended up crying out in pain, and my mum came into see what the fuss was about. I don't think I went to the doctor. It was that severe of a burn.

I am sure my sister got punished for it. I don't remember what they did to her. I have a little scare on my hand by my thumb where I was burned.

The fact that I was a clumsy kid. I am honestly not surprised that I don't have more scars in general, and that luckily I never broke any bones. Me and my sister use to fight all the times as well, so I am surprised I don't remember that many instances where she hurt me, or I hurt her. I am sure we caused scratches and stuff, but in general there aren't that many instances where I can remember her causing me harm... nothing distinctive anyway.

Beside the one incident where I cracked my head, which was an accident, and then the burn on my hand, I can only remember one other time. This event I know for a fact was an accident, and while I don't really have a scar I remember it.

I am not sure if this happened when we lived in Arcadia or right after we moved to Melbourne. I do know that we were on a car trip, a longer car trip... so I am wondering if this was one of the vacations that we took. We stopped somewhere. In my mind I see one of those random rest areas they have on long stretches of road.

I want to say we were going to visit my relatives in Haines city though as my mum wasn't with us. It was just me, my sister, and my dad. I remember this because she was sitting in the front seat.

We stopped at the rest area, and when we went to get back in. I put my hand on the car so I could climb in. I had thought I put it right before my door, apparently I had put where her door would close. Neither of us realized this till my sister went to close the door. My right index finger got caught under the door. It hurt painfully.

She opened the door, and my finger was bleeding a little, and the nail looked a funny color. I know I was bawling my eyes out, and I know I was definitely flipping out when the nail fell off.

It did eventually grow back after a few weeks, but it freaked the hell out of me. It actually looks like the rest of the nails now, you can't even tell that it ever fell off.