DarkZombieSlayer390

It had been a recovery that moved a little too snail pace for my liking. I hated being confined to a bed, and having a guy poking at my side and face with bandages and needles. Maybe it was just the needles part of it, I never really liked shots. I donated blood once when I was sixteen; I will never do that again. The nurse at school who was drawing the blood messed up and tripped on the tube, so my blood was all over the place. Lucky me, I passed out and got a very good excuse why I didn't finish an essay in history class. But I also got out of that situation with a new fear of bleeding, which I got over very quickly, and a full blown phobi