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I am a bandaid
The sun is finally setting when mom finally calls out that dinner is done. This is the one you have been waiting for, your favorite. Its indian night. You run through the backyard while trying to avoid the monsters that are chasing you in your mind. You’re moving so fast that your feet aren't even touching the ground anymore. You are determined to get to that pot of eye wateringly hot tikka masala before anyone else. You can taste the naan… crash. You run right into the tree stump dad cut down this morning. You look down and blood seems to be rushing from a cut that you can't find. You run inside with your tears streaking through your dirt covered cheeks. Mom tells you it'll be alright as she washes your knee and puts a bright blue bandaid on.
You are helping your grandparents when a piece of glass falls. You can't let it break, you'll get in trouble. WIthout hesitation you catch the glass with your left hand. You set it down with your heart racing so fast it hurts. You catch your breath and wipe your forehead. A warmth suddenly sweeps over you. A bead of blood travels like a snail down your forehead to your nose. You go to the bathroom and begin wiping the dried crusty blood from your forehead. You clean your hand off and put a beige covering over it.
You watch her run around the yard. She is the most amazing thing you have ever seen and you love her more than anything else. She runs back and forth, each time bringing you some new thing. She comes running back with nothing in her hands. She is crying but you can't figure out why. She gives you her hand and says that she hurt it with a slight sniffle between words. You kiss it and tell her you know just what to do. You run inside and grab the most trustworthy thing you can find, a bandaid just like the ones you grew up with.
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