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Waking to a sharp headache, sitting inside with the hot weather has not improved my health.
Reflecting on the moment it all happened, the pain of my failure is scared into my mind. The machine not only took my arm, but my source of income and my future.
I sit up thinking about how now I will exist as a burden upon my family. Nothing more then something that takes up space.
The whole house is quiet. Mom and Sister are out working while father is out on the town doing god knows what. And I sit here, doing and being nothing.
I walk to the desk and take the fresh bandages from the table. Wrapping my arm, or lack there of, again.
I return to bed, dreading my existence. The moment of the accident burned into my memory. Hating myself and my stupidity I lay there empty.
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