Blood on the Carpet

“Your blood is getting on the carpet,” she said.

“Oh, I’ll clean that up,” I said. I went and got the mop and started to clean it up. I could hardly stand but the handle helped hold me up. I cleaned it up and put a new bandage on the wound.

I walked into the kitchen to eat with the rest of my friends and family. I could hear them talking about how annoying I was for bleeding on the carpet. They stopped talking when I walked in.

“Did you clean it?” my mom asked.

“Yea,” I said nervously, because I wanted her to know that I wasn’t lazy. Everyone else was laughing about something else so that helped me to relax. I was really glad I wasn’t in trouble for making a mess. That could have ruined the party for everyone.

“So we are going to go to the movies tonight, are you going?” my cousin asked me.

“Oh no, I am tired,” I said.

“She’s boring now,” my sister said and my mom laughed. It was probably true because I really didn’t feel like doing much but sleeping. I reached for a drink on the table and some blood seeped out of my bandage and dripped on the table.

“MOM!” my sister said, “I just cleaned the table, tell her to stop bleeding on it!”

“HEATHER! Clean it up!” my mom shouted at me. Someone handed me a napkin and I quickly cleaned the spot. I was being so messy and getting on everyone’s nerves I could tell. I kept that arm under the table for the rest of dinner. I used a lot of napkins to keep the blood from bothering anyone.

“You sure you don’t want to go to the movies?” my cousin asked me.

“Yea, I think I’m going to lay down,” I said.

“Don’t you want to go see the movie?” my mom asked.

“She’s boring,” my sister said.

“I’m tired,” I said. They all gave each other looks and I knew them well, it was because I was lazy. I was boring probably because I really was very tired.

“Come on,” my sister said, “stop being boring.”

“I think I need a nap,” I said.

“Come on, let’s go,” she said.

“No,” I said.

“Mom, tell her to go,” my sister whined.

“Just go with them,” my mom said.

“Okay fine,” I said. And I went out the door with them but I get really sleepy and probably because I was lazy I laid down on the ground.

“I guess she’s too boring and lazy to go,” someone said, it was fading out.

Then someone else said, "she's just doing that for attention."

Another said, "she's just imagining it." And maybe they were right, I did that often. Thinking something was wrong when I was really just overreacting.

I could see the open wound on my arm bleeding on the sidewalk. I moved it to the grass so that it wouldn’t stain the concrete. I didn’t want to make a mess. That was the last thing I wanted to be the last thing I did before I bled to death.