Bloody Nose Story

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This was the first project I did in Creative Writing. We were to tell a memorable story about ourselves, I think anyway. I hope you like it!
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    One day when I was in Second Grade, all of the had teachers planned an activity for all of their students. What we were to do was simple; we went from class to class and did fun projects in each said class.
It was the first rotation and we were playing Heads Up, Seven Up. I remember being one of the kids that went around and pushed the other kids' thumbs into their closed fists. I also remember thinking I was so clever. What I did was shove people's thumb kind of fiercely, claiming to play the part of a rambunctious young boy. And it worked too. No one guessed me correctly the entire game, or so I assume. I can't really remember the greatest, but my plan worked for the most part anyway.
We moved on to doing a drawing activity. We would draw for maybe five or ten minutes, then switch the paper to the person either to the right or left side of us. I remember it was maybe the third or second time we had switched with our partners, I started with the paper; a blank white sheet. I got the idea to draw a deer, and started with it's ears and head, getting down to the neck. And than, two drops of red liquid dappled my paper.
Blood, crimson blood.
I had developed a nose bleed, but this didn't worry me because I got nosebleeds all the time. It was nothing new for me. But, going on the not so right path, I decided to just cover it up and not let the teacher know. Boy was this a mistake. A friend asked me if I was okay, and I convinced them I was fine. At this point my head was on the desk while I held my hands over my nose and mouth. I don't even remember the transition, but soon enough I was forced to hold my hands over my mouth and nose because they had filled up with snot-satiated blood. I know this sounds grim and rather unsettling, but I'm being subtle. By this time, I was sobbing and trying not to let the blood escape my cupped hands. Eventually, my friend, that had earlier asked me if I was okay, asked again. I did not hesitate and said no. She than told the teacher and it began.
I leaned up from my chair and saw blood absolutely everywhere. My desk was scarlet, my hair had red tips and my crayons were crimson covered. All of the students were gone; the classroom was vacant except for a janitor, teacher and I. I was sobbing continuous tears as he cleaned blood from my face and hair. My family was waiting inside the office the entire time I was in the classroom. Once I had gotten cleaned up, I turned to see them now in the classroom, waiting for me. We than went home, the end. Welp, there's one story I don't tell many people, there you go.

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