Oct 2019
It was just a normal, boring history class.
My group was just about to present a presentation about the typical topic.
I was ready.
I knew what I had to say and do.
My team depended on me.
This was the 7th grade.
I got up to start my lecture on how wonderful castles where.
Then I felt something splatter on my new blouse.
The blood came pretty fast.
I just had a fever the other day.
And thanks to science, I know that because of the fever my blood clots were not normal.
As I was slowly concluding that my nose was bleeding it was too late. I walked up there and it came out.
Just as I lifted my hand to cover the bleeding it already was splattered everywhere.
I ran to the tissues and bolted out the door.
I ran into the bathroom, my hands shaking.
I looked in the mirror.
Who was that?
Who was I?
The girl that looked back at me as someone that had blood everywhere on her face and looked like she was just about to cry.
I couldn’t cry.
I wouldn’t.
I-I shouldn’t.
I am.
I was supposed to be tough but it came.
It burst out and turned into sobs.
Heaving and hacking at my lungs.
The tissues couldn’t hold all of the bleeding.
It began to seep through and onto my fingers.
I didn’t care.
I didn’t feel.
I would’ve stayed there until someone found my skeleton.
But thankfully, that didn’t happen.
As luck would have it, a teacher was in one of the stalls.
She came out into the main bathroom area and gasped.
She eyed me and shook her head.
She grabbed me by my arm.
My mind was muddled due to the loss of blood.
I stared at her numbly. She spoke, “Now, now dear let me take you to the office. We can get you ice and your mom.”
Her voice was light and maternally.
She cared about me.
We walked, arms linked with my hand over my nose clogged with tissues.
I shivered thinking what my mom would do.
I had missed the biggest presentation of the year.
Hopefully, she would understand.
I entered the office with head held high.
Not making eye contact with anyone.
The main lady at the desk questioned, “Did someone beat you up?”
I didn’t take offense to this because I was bleary-eyed and looked disheveled. The secretary shook her head and said, “No fight. I found her like this.”
The lady smiled in my direction and handed me the phone.
I dialed my mom’s phone number, hands shaking, terrified of what was to come next.
My group was just about to present a presentation about the typical topic.
I was ready.
I knew what I had to say and do.
My team depended on me.
This was the 7th grade.
I got up to start my lecture on how wonderful castles where.
Then I felt something splatter on my new blouse.
The blood came pretty fast.
I just had a fever the other day.
And thanks to science, I know that because of the fever my blood clots were not normal.
As I was slowly concluding that my nose was bleeding it was too late. I walked up there and it came out.
Just as I lifted my hand to cover the bleeding it already was splattered everywhere.
I ran to the tissues and bolted out the door.
I ran into the bathroom, my hands shaking.
I looked in the mirror.
Who was that?
Who was I?
The girl that looked back at me as someone that had blood everywhere on her face and looked like she was just about to cry.
I couldn’t cry.
I wouldn’t.
I-I shouldn’t.
I am.
I was supposed to be tough but it came.
It burst out and turned into sobs.
Heaving and hacking at my lungs.
The tissues couldn’t hold all of the bleeding.
It began to seep through and onto my fingers.
I didn’t care.
I didn’t feel.
I would’ve stayed there until someone found my skeleton.
But thankfully, that didn’t happen.
As luck would have it, a teacher was in one of the stalls.
She came out into the main bathroom area and gasped.
She eyed me and shook her head.
She grabbed me by my arm.
My mind was muddled due to the loss of blood.
I stared at her numbly. She spoke, “Now, now dear let me take you to the office. We can get you ice and your mom.”
Her voice was light and maternally.
She cared about me.
We walked, arms linked with my hand over my nose clogged with tissues.
I shivered thinking what my mom would do.
I had missed the biggest presentation of the year.
Hopefully, she would understand.
I entered the office with head held high.
Not making eye contact with anyone.
The main lady at the desk questioned, “Did someone beat you up?”
I didn’t take offense to this because I was bleary-eyed and looked disheveled. The secretary shook her head and said, “No fight. I found her like this.”
The lady smiled in my direction and handed me the phone.
I dialed my mom’s phone number, hands shaking, terrified of what was to come next.
