tsMarianna+S.

I have what some people call a "dent" in the middle of my forehead. It is not a dent, but a scar, a memory from accidents past. The scar in my forehead has been there since I was two years old. Let me tell you about how it got there....

It was August 5, the day of my second birthday. I lived in New Hampshire, which was right near my grandparent's house in Massachusetts. The second my eyes opened in the morning, there was no peaceful quietness. I scrambled out of my "big girl bed" and jumped on my parents. They woke up with a grunt and grinned warily to each other. Apparently, they had anticipated this. My little sister, Caroline, was sleeping quietly in her crib. Quietly? Not for long. I ran over to her and started chanting, "Today is my birfday, my birfday, my birfday!" She woke up with a yell and immediately began crying. Mum rushed over to her and said to me, in a voice of forced calm, "Get dressed, sweetie. You don't want to be in your pajamas for the big day!" I got dressed, too excited to argue.

Later that morning, after a quick breakfast of westerns (scrambled eggs with vegetables mixed in), we went to the park. As soon as we reached the gate, I wrestled out of my dad's firm grip and ran to the high, slippery slide. I climbed up the ladder leading to the top of the slide, taking care not to look down. After I reached the top, I waved to my parents and sat down. As soon as my flesh touched the surface of the slide, my leg felt on fire. Like most summer days, the sun had heated the metal of the slide until it was nearly burning. I screamed, my thigh burning. My father, his ears forever alert, stood up and started to run over to me. Before he could reach me, I jumped off the slide. My mother's screams filled my ears like a mosquito's buzz. My father ran harder, but didn't reach me in time. I landed on my right side, and fell over, so that my head bumped onto the bottom of the slide.

I can't remember the rest, but I've been told that after that, I screamed loudly until I became hoarse. I was still in great pain, though, and tears ran down my cheeks as my parents tried to calm me. I was brought to the emergency room to get stitches. By the time I left the hospital, my mother, sister, and I had cried out all the tears that we had inside of us. I also left with three stiches in my forehead. And to this day, the mark of the slide is planted in my forehead.