Echo

Gasping, I quickly clutched my hand, applying pressure to the wound. Blood had already flown onto my work; it dribbled off my hand and onto my clothes. The pain was so immense that for the first few seconds back to reality, I was in a state of total shock. Then pandemonium broke loose.

The once silent students began to either shriek in horror, or mutter amazingly. In a second, Mr. Schmitt was at my side, face blanched at the sight of the blood.

"What happened?" he demanded, prying apart my hands, oblivious to my attempts to keep them clenched. He examined the wound while I winced in pain.

"Paper cut," I announced weakly. At the moment, it was the truth. I had no idea how I had gotten the wound, but I believed I had majorly sliced it as I was flipping through the text. Anyone who saw could verify. It was entirely possible.

"Okay. Come with me." He gently pulled me from my seat, holding my left wrist while I clutched my right hand. Dakota stood too, and he didn't object. He walked quickly out the door of the classroom, but not before yelling back some page numbers. I nearly rolled my eyes. No one was going to be doing any work.

He dashed down the hallways, in a pace a little too fast for my liking. I stumbled a few times, but Dakota always grabbed my arm and steadied me so I wouldn't fall. Suddenly, he turned into the staff room/nurse's room, and yelled, "First Aid! I need First Aid!"

Two women and a man scrambled from the table and hurried towards us. The one woman ran to a shelf and pulled out the first aid box and brought it towards us. By this time, Mr. Schmitt and the man had guided me to a chair on the table and sat me down, instructing me to lay my hand on the table. I did so reluctantly.

The man, Mr. Dale, asked to see my hand. I bit my lip and slowly retracted my left hand, all the while trying to hold in a scream.

"What happened here?" he asked, completely surprised. The question was aimed at me, but Mr. Schmitt answered, and for that I was grateful. I didn't think I could make a complete sentence.

"She says it's a paper cut."

"Well, it's a pretty nasty one." I chanced a glance at my hand as the teachers patched it up. My stomach rolled over. There was an ugly red, uneven gash that ran across my palm, and the flesh around it was rapidly swelling. It was almost the size of an apple.

Dakota held my left hand, not caring that she was getting blood on her hands either. She gave it a squeeze when I shut my eyes as the guaze was pulled tight. For a while, I heard voices speaking, but I didn't understand what they were saying. Then I heard them clearly.

"Miranda, sweetheart, we're going to take you to the emergency room." It was one of the woman. My already uneazy stomach lurched, and I thought I was going to be sick. Then the edges of the room began to swim. I felt a few hands help me stand up from the chair, but I couldn't tell who they were.

"It's the blood loss."

"She'll need a few stitches."

"Dakota, could you come with her?"

I didn't remember much of the ride to the ER, I was constantly fighting the urge to throw up. There was a good side to it though; I alos didn't seem to pay much attention to the 5 stitches I received.

I sat in a small waiting room afterwards, and it was only then that I began to think more clearly. My vision stopped swimming and my stomach stopped lurching. And best of all, the pain in my hand had settled to little more than an annoying throb.

I'd have to say, the paperwork was the worst. Of course, my parents were away on a two month vacation, somewhere in the Caribbean on a cruise. They weren't coming home for another month, and I didn't want them coming home early for just some silly little cut. It took a lot of convincing the principle to let me go home without contacting my folks. It wasn't normally their policy to do it that way, but hey, I make a convincing argument. Luckily, since it was an emergency, Mr. Schmitt signed everything, and we were free to go.

Dakota and I were exempted from school for the rest of the day, and so we went back to my house. The morphine was taking it's full effect and I wanted nothing more than to sleep all this off and call it a bad dream.