A Single Drop

This is the story about one of the most horrendous moments in my life. It happened a few years back, when I was around the age of ten.
     It was a "cold" Califonia winter night (temp being around 50 degrees. So not even cold). My parents had decided to go Christmas shopping and had put my twin sister and me in charge of babysitting. It started out as any other night. We all wandered around our house trying to figure out what to do with ourselves. All of us being young, we ended up plopping ourselves down in front of the flat screen TV and started to flip through channels. As we sat there mesmerized, a knife commercial came on.
     The Miracle Blade 3, sharpest knife out there. A large chef with a tall white hat, silly mustache with curls at the ends appeared on the screen accompanied by cheesy upbeat music. This knife could cut through anything! It could even cut through a pineapple in mid-air! The Miracle Blade three could slice and dice in seconds and tear through even the most frozen foods. Conveniently enough, we had those exact knives in our kitchen.
      The night continued on and some of the children grew tired of sitting in front of a screen. One by one we all began to scatter around the house doing our own thing. I was one of the more lazy children and stayed in the living room to relax on the couch. After a matter of time, my brother came darting into the living room shrieking, "I'm bleeding! I'm bleeding!" He stood in the doorway of the kitchen and living room grasping his wrist, staring at his hand petrified by the scene. I looked over to him and saw red on his hand. Being skeptical I figured he had just drawn all over his hand with red marker; until I saw a single drop of blood fall to the floor. My heart began to race and my mind went blank. I had no idea what to do. My twin, who happened to be in the room as well, started running around screaming, "call 9-1-1!" My other siblings sat there dumbfounded not sure what was happening (Imagine if you will, the cartoons that show people running around screaming-not helping at all, knocking things over, and little fires spread around the room from the chaos. without the fire of course.) I rushed my brother into the kitchen and grabbed a thick pile of paper towels. We quickly wrapped the towels around the wound and sat over the sink putting pressure on it.
     At that moment, my uncle walked in. He was stopping by to drop off a present for us children. I was relieved to have an adult around to help. "What is this mess? Clean it up before your parents come home," he said completely serious; and walked out the door. Pft! Some help he was. I frantically called my parents and awaited their arrival.
     After about a thousand years, at least that is what it seems like, my parents finally got home and brought my brother to the hospital to get stitches.
   Turns out my brother had been playing with our super sharp Miracle Blade 3s and had slit his thumb open. Yum!