Gory Story

Here is a tale that is terrifying and true: it really did happen to me, when I was young. Once upon a time, I was wearing some clothes, and I began yelling and kicking and screaming because I didn’t like the way that my blue jeans fit. So I was mad, and my temper was out of control. Then the situation grew ugly. In a fit of rage, I slammed my head downwards, and my face happened to smash right into the back of the chair that was before me; this caused a protruding piece of wood to jab into my eyeball. Thus I ended up giving myself a big puffy black-and-blue eye, which bled when I wept. 

Then, the next day, I went to Sunday School at our family’s church, and when the teachers saw my hideous facial injury, they took it as proof that my parents were abusive. But, in actuality, my folks’ parenting skills were average to adequate; they were not physically harmful — the problem was rather the intensity of my tantrums.