Personal Narrative: My Father's Death

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I’m sitting in the car crying praying my dad gets us to the hospital fast. We are going 90 miles an hour flying down the highway to Shawnee Mission medical center. Blood is gushing all over the car. my mom is screaming for a towel, so my blood doesn't stain the leather seats in the car. It all started 10 minutes earlier when we were leaving my cousins house. I was climbing into the car and as I was getting in the car door shut. It was my brother and he didn't see me on the other side of the door. My head was slammed in the door. It immediately started gushing blood. I was screaming in excruciating pain. I could barely handle it. My mom screamed and said, “Get in the car now we are going to the hospital!” We all got in the car started driving to the hospital. I was screaming and crying the whole ride. My dad was driving 90 miles an hour to get us there We are just down the street from the hospital when we hear sirens and see the blue and red lights. My dad pulls over and the officer walks over to the car, and immediately he sees me crying in the back seat and blood everywhere, he says “whoa what's going on?” To which my dad says that, “She shut her head in the car door.” The officer being sympathetic lets us go to the hospital and doesn’t give us ticket. Once we get there I walk in the waiting room, and immediately a nurse grabs…show more content…
I have a doctors appointment to go get my stitches taken out. I go and see doctor Bailey, and she gets out the scissors to cut the the stitches. The scissors freak me out a little but nothing compared to what I experience two weeks ago. I just close my eyes and say “Please be gentle.” Then she cuts the first stitch it doesn’t hurt that bad. Then she cuts the second stitch for some reason this hurt ten times more than the last. I scream, “Ouch!” She subsequently apologizes profusely because she cut it incorrectly. She finishes off cutting the stitches it turns out good but
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