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The Scar
I walked up the cold, snowy, concrete steps of the yellow building, my brother hobbling behind me. When I opened the heavy yellow door, I was greeted with a “Good afternoon Chase” from my co-worker. I returned the gesture with a “good afternoon” and went to the back room to put on my camouflage rubber boots. I strolled over to the metal sink and turned on the warm water. As the steaming water poured into the sink, I bent over to grab the blue dish soap. I added some of the soap to the water, making it bubbly and white. I took apart the frozen machines and started to wash the dirty, meat-covered parts.
I heard my boss come into the room and stop by the table behind me. He opened his mouth and said, “Chase and Shane can you guys go out back and help Mike drag in some deer?” I replied with a, “Yes sir,” and we walked out the back door into the cold-winter weather. We made our way through the maze of deer that people brought in throughout the hunting season and started to grab deer to pull in through the tall garage door to put them in a pile along with all the other deer that have been dragged in. We spent nearly forty-five minutes dragging in around one hundred deer. We were down to our last few deer, when a man strolled into the parking lot with three deer he wanted cut up. My brother and I grabbed the deer and hauled them out of the truck, so we could toss them onto the pile with the rest of the deer.
We continued dragging in the last of the deer, but as I grabbed the next deer, I felt a pain in my back. I let go of the deer and made my way into the building to get a drink of water. After a few minutes, my back pain went away, so I went back outside to get the last couple deer. I wrapped my hand around the back legs of the deer and started to drag it into the building. Once I got to the pile of the other deer, I braced my back, tensed my arm muscles, and heaved the doe onto the pile. While I was in the motion of swinging the deer, my foot got caught on the hoof of another deer causing me to crash toward the ground, but I was stopped by the leg-bone of the deer in front of me. I felt the bone smash against my cheek causing a pain through my face. I got up from the floor of the Deer Room and started to rub my cheek, when my brother screamed at me, “STOP TOUCHING IT AND GO UP FRONT.” I was confused at why he was getting so worried, so I looked down at my hand. I saw my hand covered in blood. I quickly made my way up front and into the bathroom, where I wet down a paper towel and started to wipe off my face. After I had wiped off my face, I investigated the old cracked mirror and saw a three-inch gash on the right side of my face. I walked out of the bathroom and went to speak to my boss. I crept into his office and said, “Jason…I fell outside and cut open my face.” He turned slowly in his chair and when he glanced at the cut on my face he instantly got up and ran to the medicine cabinet and rubbed alcohol on my face. The feeling of the alcohol drip onto my face was a burning agony and felt like a fire inside of my skin.
We got done cleaning out my cut, and I opened my phone to dial my mother’s number. I heard the phone ring for what felt like an eternity before my mother answered the phone. The tone of her voice made it seem as if she was exhausted and she said, “Hey buddy what’s up?” I spoke in a quiet, calm tone and said, “I don’t want you to worry, but I have fallen at work, and I cut open my face. I might need to go to the hospital and get stitches.” She responded with, “Ok, can I talk to your brother?” I put my brother on the line and sat in a chair waiting for their conversation to end. As my brother hung up the phone, he told me that my grandmother was on her way to get me, so she could take me into the emergency room. When my grandma showed up, I hopped in her car and we were on our way.
We arrived at the hospital and sat in the silent waiting room expecting a doctor to arrive any minute. When I heard the door open, I glanced around and saw the blue dressed man walk over to me and tell me that I needed to follow him. As we walked down the long white and brown hallway, I felt blood dripping through the bandage on my chin. We made it to the room and my cut was sewn back together. They gave me seven stitches, which resulted in a one-inch scar. I went home to sit on my soft leather couch and relax with an ice pack.
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