Chapter four Shrapnel

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>>Lou <<

I wake up to the sound of concrete scraping against itself. Slowly I try to open my eyes and see (lol) that I can. Carefully I get up trying to ignore the searing pain in my left arm. I look down to see what was making my arm hurt so much; shrapnel, there is a piece of shrapnel, in my arm. What a great day.

Ever so slow I reach over to try to take the piece shrapnel out. I touch the skin around the wound to see how much this will hurt when I took pulled it out and a scream bubbles up inside my throat. Ever so slowly I reached down to my torn school dress and rip off a strip. As gently as I can I put my hand around the shrapnel and SLOWLY try to pull it out of my arm. My throat burns with the need to let loose a scream; in all my life, I never depended on anyone, I had never screamed, cried, showed any sign of weakness. Why start now? 

Ya know what?  Baise-le. 

Quickly I re-grasp it as I had let go before, and pull the shrapnel out of me arm as though it was the devil. It took all of my will to not scream my lungs out right there and then. Soon I got the strip of my cargo pants tied around the wound. I look around the world around me, "What have we come to to do something like this to our own kind. They'll pay, oh they'll pay alright." 

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