March 17, 1997

Once upon a time, in a magical land called South Boston, my brother and I were in my mom’s living room playing karate. My mother hates (to this day) when we play fight in our house. So as we continue to fight, my mother calls me to stop fighting and as soon as I turn around, my brother Chris kicks me square in the chest and I go flying onto a glass table. As soon as that happened, we go running into our little brother’s room and slam the door shut. Chris insists that we go check the situation, but I tell him “are you crazy, do you not hear her screaming”? In my mind I thought she was yelling because we broke the table, but in reality she wanted to check if I was alright (and for good reason). I finally begin to peek, and as I do I get this massive headache like someone just kicked me onto a glass table. I reach back to grab my head and as soon as I pull my arm around, there is this huge pool of blood in my hand. I freak out and go running to my mom who sees it and goes all out. She immediately grabs her coat and has us get in the car as we speed off to Children’s Hospital. We finally arrive after what felt like an eternity, and we wait in the emergency room for exactly 1 hour until the doctor comes to get me. My worst fears come true as the doctor tells my mother that I have to get 4 staples on the back of my head without anesthesia (sulk). So as I prepare myself, my brother gets this sudden realization of this is his fault. I lay down on the hospital as my mom and brother hold me down. When the procedure is finished, I get bandaged up and sent home after only 2 hours at the hospital. The next year and a half were the worst because I couldn’t really get my scar wet, I couldn’t play around and I got special treatment which I hated. June 6, 1999 my staples finally come off and I am excited to get back to my life. To this day every time I get a haircut, I can feel the scar and I get reminded of how I still need to get back at my brother, but only time will tell when I get my exact revenge.