Painful story, here we go!

No, it's not emotional story. No, it's not scary story.
It's a painful story!!

As a grown up I am now (eh I mean, a child in adult body) I have suffered some painful things, I mean physically painful. Sometimes it's my own fault, sometimes it's no one's fault or someone's to blame. But well, they were painful and memorable.

The thing is.... maybe I'm not really quite right in the mind. I actually glad I felt all those pain. I like the "aftertaste" of getting hurt. I just feel stronger -even for just a little bit- after suffering. Maybe I'm semi-M or M? Hahah.
But then, even though I got hurt a lot, now I don't even remember about how much they actually hurt anyway. I just know the fact that it was damn hurt, but I already forgot the feel.

The story started with being a stupid of 5 years living. Running around, falling down to rough pavement and scraping legs. Well, that's just normal kids thing. Yeah, it's not really that memorable because I didn't even cry after falling.

The real story starts now...
My first memorable painful story probably was when I was in my third grade.
I was walking with my friend on lunch break to school library. I was walking with my hand facing against the wall, scraping the back of my palm to the rough wall, with quite a speed. Unfortunately there was a thin, half-destroyed plyboard on the wall and thus, a piece of 2 mm thick wood got inside my fingernail.
ow01.jpg
Something like this.
Actually I don't even remember which finger was that. I thought it's my ring finger, but maybe it's my middle finger because it's the longest one... Or my pointer finger, IDK.

Well I abruptly told my friend to stop going to library and showed her my injured finger. She was like "Oh God, what happened!?" but I didn't really tell her because I was embarrassed on how stupid I was. She told me to go to infirmary, but I was too scared to go there. She told me to tell the teacher but I was too scared to do that. (IDK I had fear to adults because of some events but I'm not gonna tell you.)
Well, it was damn painful alright. My finger bleed a lot and it was disastrous. Of course I cried like a little girl (admit it you probably would to if this kind of thing happened to you). But then I know that stupid wood should not be inside me any longer and I pulled that effing piece with my bare left hand with the force of desperation. And, voila! The wood's gone, I stopped crying and eventually my finger stopped bleeding.
(Actually, it wasn't really a clean pull. I saw like super tiny bits of wood left inside but no-effing-way-in hell I would dig them out. I can no longer see them after weeks, so perhaps it's gone to oblivion - or it is still inside my finger.)

I didn't even treat them immediately like applying alcohol (that must've be really crazy painful anyway) or infection-prevention thing. It was memorable for me, but no one except my friend knows it. I didn't tell anyone anyway.

Yeah, that's about it for my first my painful story. Maybe it doesn't look that painful for you, but imagine if you're a 9 years old kid.