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Old August 1st, 2007, 10:00 AM  
Junior Member+
katapiezo's Forum Picture
Join Date: June 11, 2007
Location: RI
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Default Re: This is My Story

Okay, I'm going to skip a little more than a year ahead because nothing really out of the ordinary happened during the rest of that year, except everyone forgetting my seventh birthday. But nothing really happened in result to that. So at this point of the story I just turned eight about a month or so ago, and people remembered my birthday this time.

I stood there, in front of the mirror. I was getting ready for school, noticing how my hair started getting curly. I didn't like the small curls that were forming in my hair and tried to brush the out. It didn't work that well. Then I remembered that my mom has a straightening iron. I rummaged through the cupboard underneath the sink searching for it. Finally, I found it beside a bottle of vodka.
"What the hell?" I said, referring to the vodka. My mom doesn't drink, ever. I decided not to worry about it. So I plugged in the straightening iron and waited for it to warm up. After about three minutes of waiting, I figured it was hot enough. I took the iron to my curls and ran it down them slowly. I've seen my mom do this many times, so I knew how long to keep it on my hair. When I was finished, I looked at my hair. I was shocked at how well I did. It looked just like it used to.
As I was about to turn of the straightening iron, Enrique came out of their room. When he saw me with the straightening iron in my hand, a look of disgust came to his.
"What are you doing?" he asked, "That tool is only for girls. What are you, a sissy?"
I looked at him confused. "But when I go to the salon with mom, I see some guys getting their straightened with this," I said pointing to the iron.
"But those guys are all gay! Are you saying that your gay?" he asked.
"Of course not!" I said, slightly offended, "Or well, I don't think I am, at least..."
He looked satisfied with my answer until I added that last part.
"WHAT!?" he yelled. But before I could even say what I wanted to say, he took the straightening iron from me. "So you like this tool, huh? Well, lets see how well you like it after after I show you what it can do,"
"It only straightens hair, doesn't it?" I asked, wondering what he meant.
He didn't even reply. He just took one of my fingers and clamped the iron on it. The burning was unbelievable. I screamed in pain. I pulled my arm away. I pulled a bit too hard and fell back, banging my head on the side of the tub. I brought my hand to the back of my head, and felt a warm fluid coming from it. I couldn't even blink before I passed out.
I woke up with a bright light in my face. There was a woman in a white uniform smiling at me.
"Hello," she said.
"What happened?" I asked, confused as to why I was here, or where I was. "Where am I?"
"You're at the hospital. Apparently, you burnt yourself with a straightening iron and fell down and hit the back of your head," she explained. Then I remembered what happened.
"But I didn't-," I stopped speaking when I heard someone clear their throat. I looked around and saw Enrique standing there, looking hard at me and slowly shaking his head. "Oh, right. I remember now," I said.
The nurse smiled and said she was going to get the doctor. Enrique then came over to the hospital bed I was in.
"No one's going to know that I was the one that hurt you, correct?" he whispered to me. Just like before, I thought. I figured it was best to just agree with him. I could tell my mom was in love with him and I didn't really want her to get upset. So I nodded my head.
"Where's my mom?" I asked him.
"Her job called in and said that if she didn't get in there right away, they would fire her. She told me to tell you that she was sorry she couldn't be here when you woke up," He said, a little annoyed.
Just then, the doctor came in.
"It seems that your ready to go. You'll be fine, just don't use your right hand that much and don't move your head fast," he said.
Then I remembered my finger and looked at it. It had some type of cream on it, but I could still see that it was blistered pretty bad.
The doctor gave me a tube of the cream and told me to put it on once a day. Then he looked at Enrique.
"Are you going to be taking him home?" the doctor asked him.
"Yes," he replied, "I'm his mother's boyfriend.
"Then I'm going to need to sign these papers and then you can go," the doctor said and left.
Good thing I'm left-handed, I thought finding it painful to move my right index finger. Enrique finished filling out the papers and gave them to the nurse. I was taken out of the hospital and put into my mom's car.
"Why is her car here?" I asked Enrique.
"Cause me and you got driven here by an ambulance and your mom drove here from the store. But she knew we had to get home somehow, so I went with her to her job, dropped her off, and then drove back here," he told me.
"Oh," I said.
So he took me home. When we got there, I went to my room.
"I'm so not going to use a straightening iron again," I said to myself.

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