Cut

Shoot! I mumbled as blood oozes out of my index finger, near the joint just above my nail. I didn’t realized it at first, haven’t felt anything. I didn’t notice until i saw the drops of blood staining my maple-colored desk. Only then that i felt this razor-sharp pain and i cursed silently. I held my finger and vehemently forced out the blood out of the broken skin. At a certain moment, i was afraid to touch the papers that surrounded me, as if they’re all gonna bite me. I panicked and I guessed I exaggerated.

I pondered on my thoughts and I arrived at things that worry me. I may not be conscious about those occurences that appear to be as problems only until I see them as problems. But what if i leave them all along to heal themselves eventually? Will it turn up to be an ugly scar on my pale complexion or will it just leave me an unremarkable wound that will leave as soon my leukocytes or any antibodies heal them. What if I don’t worry on things that’ll put wrinkles on my forehead, instead ignore them, and let them pass by.

All of these thoughts clouded up in my baffled brain, just because of one simple accident.

A papercut.