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interrogation time. the thinker.

Learning to Fall: more feen.
After the cop left Momma and Dad helped me get my dinner down. With the burn on my chest it was hard to think about my arm and shoulder, it hurt that much. My shoulder was dislocated when Terry hit me and the bones in my arm that were all healed over became cracked again, too. I was in a cast again, only this time my arm had to be tucked down by my side 'cause a sling would have my cast resting on the big red, scabby circle on my chest.

When I finished my jello a nurse came in and gave me a shot of a drug called "more feen" to make me numb and floaty so they could do some work on the big burn. Jillian said it looked like a sun burst on my chest and Alex said that he knew guys in college who paid good money to have tattoos in the shape of a sun on their back and here I was lucky enough to get it for free.

Lucky. Yeah. Alex wouldn't know luck if it flew up his butt playing a bugle riding a winged monkey.

When the nurse came back in she had a tray of tools and pincers and a stack of gauze three inches high. She said she was going to have to de-breed my wound.

"Is that like the opposite of to breed it?" That painkiller sure felt good. For some reason I laughed so hard at my own joke I almost wet the bed.

"No, it's spelled 'd-e-b-r-i-d-e', silly."

She tried to smile when she started in on me, but she kept pulling back like maybe I would hit her or something. I didn't, but I did watch as she peeled away the flaky skin and the scabby burned ruffle all around my chest and belly. It made a sound, my skin pulling away, a sick sound and I wished I didn't have front row seats to this show. It reminded me of Dad skinning a catfish he caught at Lyter's pond last summer.

"Can I get some more feen, please."

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interrogation time. the thinker.

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