So this small scab like looking scar (not super obvious) sits on my right wrist right next to the jutting out wrist bone, but acts as a hallmark of a moment of raw stupidity fuelled by a small amount of 12 year old anger.
I went on a school trip to France during the final term (I was living in England at this point) of my Middle school. There was an agreement overall that the students weren’t allowed to use their phones, but the tone set by the school wasn’t that it was for our well being and health to enjoy the outdoors but rather to prevent contact with unnecessary parties. So my 12 year old brain decided halfway through the trip to try to email (because that was the only function by iPod Touch had to communicate) my parents and say everything was fine. Now, the internet at this little French hotel was so awful from my hotel room that I had to precariously lean out my window in order to get even a minutiae of connection. But lo and behold as I lean out the window who should also be leaning out their window but the teacher who was staying in the room next to us. Ensue awkward exchange of glances, a retreat into my room and a knock on the door. My iPod was taken, much to my behest and confusion considering other people’s blatant use of their devices throughout the trip. However, the real cherry on the cake was the somewhat ludicrous speech our assistant headmaster gave the next morning about his outrage over device use. This speech was of particularly note because he was clutching my iPod as he was giving it, waving it back and forth like some form of conductors rod of middle school student rehabilitation. My name was at no point mentioned in said speech, but I was particularly sullen and outraged throughout most of it. And this outrage fed into my stupidity.
The next day we headed to a little water park about 30 mins from the hotel. My dejected form taunted by the battery of technology usage around me on the bus ride over. Finally getting changed and proverbially leaping for joy at the prospect of a water park where I could just let go for an hour or two and forget about my 12 year old woes, I dived hands first into a pool meant to catch you from a slide. Now, these pools aren’t meant for swimming but rather are to curb your momentum from the water slide, and as such was really only 2 feet deep. Well I noticed this mid dive, and turned slightly to my side, catching most of my momentum on the wrist (enter scar) and side rather than right on the noggin. It is also important to note that the bottom of these little pools are purposefully roughed to make sure you have enough grip to stand up and get out without slipping. Good for not slipping, but also good as an abrasive. It is also worth pointing out that blood plus swimming pools equal big health and safety no no, so when I noticed what I had done to myself my responsible brain kicked in and immediately went to a teacher to get fixed up. Fortunately they possessed the ultimate solution to a 12 year old’s stupidity in the form of waterproof bandaids (after a generous amount of dabbing at said wound and letting it dry) so I was still able to enjoy the water park a little.
However, the real cherry on the cake was that as we were leaving the park our assistant headmaster went up to me, gave me my phone and with a particular tone of pity in his voice said ‘you’ve been well behaved, here’. So all in all, an okay day.
BONUS MYSTERY SCAR
I legitimately have no idea how I got this scar.
I woke up one morning this semester, did my morning routine and sat down at my desk and as I sat down I noticed pain in my upper right arm. Sure enough I rolled my arm meat over and saw that I had a fairly small, thin and long cut along my tricep. After a couple of days I noticed that the scab looked particularly like a zipper which was kind of curious.
Such is the tale of the mystery scar.