Personal Narrative: Blood

Pain. Blood. Hospital. Stitches. Clumsy. A nice way to start out my childhood. It was about ten years ago, when I was three, when I came to realize that I had to be more careful. Since I was two years old, until I was five, I took dance lessons. At the studio, there were multiple classes for different levels and for different styles of dance; every year every dance class in the studio would get together and have a recital. It was the day of the recital, and I was more than ready to perform. The auditorium chairs couldn’t hold me in, just as I couldn’t hold in my excitement. My best friend, still today, and I were standing and playing on the auditorium chairs. These chairs were the concert chairs that flipped once you got up. Being a three-year-old, anything was a playground. …show more content…
The ground came closer and closer until I felt a slight pain right underneath my head. I don’t exactly remember what happened after that moment, but I remember that everyone was crowded around me, and I was rushed to the bathroom. All I can remember was blood, blood, and more blood. There was blood all over my back, starting from somewhere nobody knew. Where had she been cut? Where is the injury? Is she okay? Does she have a lot of blood loss? Those were the same questions I had in my mind, even though I couldn’t think straight. The next thing I knew I was being lifted into someone’s car, and being rushed to the hospital. I sat in the waiting room, in my little tutu and hair matted in blood, waiting for my parents to arrive at the