Personal Narrative: The Day I Cut My Shaving

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Sitting in my grey, old, used chair, the clock ticking in the middle of all the silence, my thoughts gathering in my head, only one memory seems to be hitting me smack in the face. I don 't have a great memory anymore. One story I remember clearly from when I was in middle school was the time I cut myself shaving. I remember everything about that day, every little detail. After school, Bre, Kennedy, Anna, and I all went to the Sportsplex to play some volleyball! The laughs and smiles we all had put a warm feeling in us all.
My parents were gone all weekend so I stayed at Anna 's house. I remember being so sweaty and smelly that I was irritated and itchy. Anna showered first, while I was waiting I was playing 1010 on my phone. It was finally my turn, I hopped right in and realized my legs were really hairy. So, I grasped the pink razor with butterfly carvings on the handle and shaved away.
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When I reached my ankle I shaved what felt like three layers of skin off without even noticing. It stung so bad, I held my ankle under the water for about five minutes hoping it would stop bleeding but it didn 't. Eventually, I hopped out of the shower, held rags, and toilet paper on it until it stopped bleeding. But, it wouldn 't stop no matter what I tried. Finally, the bleeding died down a little so I put a band-aid on it and let it sit for awhile.
Weeks, maybe months later I was still trying to keep it moist and healthy. Eventually, it started to scar and it was fine. For some reason, that painful memory is one that brings laughs and puke feelings to my family

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