I am at home, resting. The rest of the family is up and about, getting breakfast and hurrying out the doors. My mother is yelling at Katie to finish her breakfast and wash up. I hear Katie grumble something and a hard slap of flesh on flesh. The silence in the kitchen as the whole family leaves.
I stay in bed, listening to the birds who had awakend early, and rolled over to the window to let in a faint stream of light peaking through the window behind the closed cloth. I lifted my injured hand to the window and examined it.
The bandage was crusted over with blood, so I unrapped it. I gagged at the sight of my own hand, for it was black, and swollen.....and where my finger had been lopped off, there was bone sticking out slightly. I turned away from my finger, only to turn back and try and wrap up my hand again. Oooo the pain! I flinched and made a mental note to myself to send for Miss Bertha.
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