My Memories Of My Life

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Most of what I remember of my life is tainted with a glistening, crude feeling that overwhelms all my senses. My memories are filled with fondness, but, at the same time, underneath, in the core, is an unimaginable feeling that cannot be described by any other words than a shadowy torment. It was not immediate, and I have not experienced it my entire life, but all that I remember of my life is filled with it. It is a pain so twisting, so cruel, that it has unraveled my entire life. My life did not start out this way. Before, in my younger years, I was just like any other kid. I bounced with optimism, ran myself in circles, and laughed innocently. I enjoyed many things- playing with friends, drawing, and drinking slushies. I was…show more content…
It did not hurt that much, so this display did not give me any feeling aside from lightheadedness and lucidity. So all I did was extract the then-dyed-red knife from my hand, put gauze and antibacterial on it. I of course then went to the hospital. At the time, I did not think much of the encounter; it was just something that happened and prevented me from drinking my slushy. This event was, however, the beginning of my descent into an unraveled world, one filled with truth and bitterness. A few days after the incident, I started feeling a tingling sensation, a slight burning, searing feeling, in my left hand. It was unusual, and I did not assume much about it. After a couple more days passed, the tingling sensation turned into something worse. It now felt like a phantom knife was jabbing me, over and over; just an edge infinitely jabbing me. It was at this point that I knew something was wrong. I traveled to an advanced hand surgeon, and he told me that there was excess tissue, hardening, and blockading my blood from fully entering my hand. So to fix this, he started an exploratory, and cut, ever so slightly, down my hand with a surgical knife. He inserted the tiny blade into my skin, pulled down, causing a tearing in my hand. I could not feel it, due to medicine, but I could feel it. I could feel my skin being torn, cut open, just as if you were cutting into a cake, but one that was filled with maroon blood, tissues, and tendons. After he removed

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