I don’t recognize the girl in the mirror.  Her favorite blue, floral shirt is speckled with blood splotches.  Her hair is like a bird’s nest.  Her eyes are red and swollen, and all her eyelashes are clumped together.  Mini streams can be seen gliding down her rosy cheeks.  None of this would even be happening if earlier this week that beefy, show-off kid hadn’t tried to open the recess door with his foot, I think to myself.  I choke back a sob that’s full of anger.  Why did he not think that the glass would shatter?  And why did no one prop open the empty door frame—so no one would fall through on that sharp, unforgiving metal frame?  

So many questions race through my head.  I try to rethink the sequence of events that happened today that led up to this incident…

Ding, ding.  The bell rings its sound of freedom.  I jump from my seat and race out the door like everyone else in Mrs. Yeske’s third grade class.  Katherine taps my shoulder, smiles, and races to her locker next to mine.  I carefully place each arm in a sleeve of my puffy, metallic purple jacket and place my braided hat on my head.  Katherine puts on her rose-colored jacket and her Green Bay Packer hat.  We giggle then start walking towards the door for recess. 

 “What do you want to do today?” Katherine asks.  I turn and look at her.

“Maybe we should play foursquare again,” I suggest.  “But it’s up to you I picked last time.”  We approach the glass, double door that leads to the chilly outdoors.  Katherine makes her way to open one door and I the other.  Katherine and I look at each other and smile.  Recess is our favorite part of the day.  I can see the excitement in her pale-blue eyes.  I push on the glass to open the door.      

 “Sophie!” Katherine screams.  I feel like I’m floating towards the ground in slow motion, but then everything becomes dark.

I am half-way to my feet; my knees feel weak.  I feel the thick, warm liquid oozing from my mouth.  Now I feel it, the throbbing pain.  My mouth and chin feel like all the skin fell off it, and someone is pulling at it.  I gulp, then gag.  What’s going on?  I bring my hands up just below my chin and cup them.  I choke as a waterfall of red pours into them.  I breathe hard and gag some more, the pain is agonizing.  It aches so bad I can’t even feel it, just the constant pressure—like someone is pushing at it.  I look around and I see a giant circle of students and teachers has formed around me.  Their invasive eyes are staring at me with shock and terror, but no one moves to help or whispers a sound.  The silence is deafening.  The only thing I hear is my heavy breathing and raspy sobs.  I feel my heart starting to race, I’m scared.  I see Katherine.  Her eyes are as big as marbles, staring intensely at me.  Her jaw is dropped, and her wide-open mouth gawks at me.  I look down at my hands and realize that they’re overflowing, like a broken dam.  Blood is soaking the grey carpet at my feet.  My blood.  I cough and start sobbing.  It’s a deep, chest-aching sob from the bottom of my stomach.  I turn around and face away from the students and their prying eyes, but there’s more behind me.  Mrs. Hanson, one of the teachers, looks at me stunned.  Please, help me, I say with my eyes.  My mouth is numb and full with warm liquid.   She slowly backs away.  Mrs. Shutz, someone who I’ve never spoken to, is running towards me.  She puts one of her soft hands on each of my shoulders and guides me away from the cluster.  She starts guiding me towards the office, towards refuge from the crowd.

I am directed into the bathroom.  I am told to wash the blood from my hands and try to calm down while they call my mom.  Shakily, I slowly turn the facet on.  I peek at my reflection.  I don’t recognize the girl in the mirror.  Her favorite blue, floral shirt is speckled with blood splotches.  Her hair is like a bird’s nest.  Her eyes are red and swollen.  All her eyelashes are clumped together.  Mini streams can be seen gliding down her rosy cheeks.  My eyes fly to her chin.  I cringe as I see the huge gash that’s parallel to her bottom lip.  The blood dripping from it flows like water melting from an ice cube.  The cut itself is a purplish blue, it looks like someone had cut her with a knife.  I bring my fingers to my bottom lip and roll it forward gently to reveal the inside of it.  The girl in the mirror mimics me.  She reveals to me what looks like fresh hamburger meat.  I choke and whimper, trying to hold back the tears.  I let my hands fall to my sides and I try to smile.  My reflection produces a weak grin.  I look at myself and I become frozen with shock.  A wash of cold comes over me at what I see.  I lean closer to the mirror to make sure I’m not imagining it.  To my horror, it’s not my imagination.  My front tooth appears lopsided.  There’s a jagged line where I can clearly see where half of my front tooth had chipped off.