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The Knife Monologue Essay

Slice “I have all my fingers the knife goes chop, chop, chop if I miss the spaces my fingers will come off” Ethan sang knife clanged against the cool tile in between his pale bony fingers. “And if I hit my fingers the blood will soon come out. All the same I play this game because that’s what it’s all about. Chop, chop, chop I’m picking up the speed. ” The knife blurred as he dipped it in between the small spaces in his hand. He went faster and faster, with every clang of the knife I jumped. I shut my eyes, knowing he was almost at full speed. Thankfully, he stopped ending the song without a cut.

Using dexterous hands, he flipped his shaggy blonde hair just enough out of his face to see his ocean blue eyes. He gave a laugh and a smile, handing me my knife. “It would have been more entertaining if you cut yourself” I said being facetious. He rolled his eyes and gave me a look. I couldn’t have been happier at the moment, surrounded by my best friends in my second home. It was my fourth week volunteering at camp, my seventh summer. Camp meant the world to me, more than anyone knew. It was somewhere I could be myself. A place where the worries of life couldn’t touch me.

A safe haven where everyone around me cared so much and loved me unconditionally. A warm feeling engulfed my chest and spread to my toes. I didn’t want to be anywhere else. “Let me try” I said “I bet I can do ten times better than you. ” I opened the knife. “Yeah right” he laughed “don’t cut yourself. ” “I won’t. I have all my fingers…” I sang confidently. My heart beat fast in my chest skipping a bit every time the knife connected with the ground. “If I miss the spaces…” I could feel the adrenaline flowing in my veins. I speed up with every sentence of the song.

Listening to the crickets and the river outside the cabin walls. “Chop, chop, chop if I hit my fingers they will surely bleed. ” I finished the song without a scratch, giving Ethan a ostentatious look. Small conversations flickered around me like small, vibrant flames. “Emma what’s all in your knife”? Ben asked. I flipped the cool red swiss army pocket knife my dad gave me around in my hands. “I’m not sure” I answered. People around me laughed the joyful banter filling the wood cabin, I reveled in the noise. “You should open up all the tools at once! Sofia suggested throwing her luscious red hair over her shoulder. She ate a handful of Maya’s red, white and blue fourth of July goldfish.

“Dude yes! ” I said using zero discretion this seeming like a wondrous idea. I began pulling all the gadgets out of the knife starting with the largest blade, joyful sounds ringing around me. I clicked the largest knife into place. Then I proceeded to open the smaller knife directly across from the larger twin. Time slowed as I opened the file tool next to the big knife. As the tool sprang and clicked into place my thumb followed, pushing and dragging on the shiny new blade.

I laid the knife on my lap. Ow. The cut didn’t hurt much, It couldn’t be that deep? I held my finger in my other hand. Ow. Pain started to emanate up my arm. I opened my folded hands to examine the damage. A layer of warm sticky blood covered my palm. “Ben, I’m bleeding” I said, astonished closing my hand. BEn sitting across from me on the other bunk looked over to me. Warm red liquid dripped onto the tile floor. He started, his pale blue eyes locked on the small dribble coming out of my cupped hands. He looked up, his eyes meeting with mine.

“Ben i’m bleeding a lot. My voice faltered. There was so much blood. Everyones eyes were now on me all conversation had stopped. My heart picked up speed. “Alex! ” Ben yelled. His voice shook he couldn’t stop looking from the pool on the floor then up at me. “I don’t like blood. ” Was all I could get out of my mouth. The pain started to burn deep in my skin. People around me said many things asking if I was ok. All I could say back was “There is a lot of blood. ” Voices rushed around me, but I couldn’t hear I felt like there were cotton balls in my ears. I didn’t like blood.

Dalton got up from the bunk on the right wall and swiftly made his way to me. “Stand up” he said reassuringly. I stood shakily. When I found my feet Dalton wrapped his arms around me. “I don’t like blood” I winced into his chest. Alex walked over calmly. Dalton pulled away, picking up my hands. My blood slowly covering his large hands. Alex carefully examined the gash running down my thumb. “It hurts. Do I need stitches”? I asked scared “I don’t want stitches. ” “There is doubt its deep” he said turning my finger over. “But I don’t think it did much damage to your inner thumb.

If you let it heal you shouldn’t need stitches” he finished. Everyone helped me painfully clean my wound and all escaped blood. Allie our make shift nurse looked everywhere for a big enough band aid, but turned up empty handed. We all later laughed about everything. Laying in my bunk that night I thought about my friends, realizing the good ones are there for you at your weakest moments. I fell asleep to the sound of the rushing river and the hum of bats. Every time I look at the scar on my right thumb I think not of the pain, blood, or fear, but of friendship and something a little closer to family.

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