I'm on a counter,

crying.

 

I feel a lot of bandaids under my chin.

 

I think I'm talking to my aunt (the one in the photograph here) and my father.

 

I'm being wrapped in a towel, I can't move. I see a light above me and I feel a pinch in my arm.

​

Later I learned that I was running on the wooden floor in my apartment in my red pjs with slippery cloth feet (way before the manufacturers added rubber)

 

I fell and tore the skin on my chin. I received 4 stitches.

 

Those stitches, now much smaller appear as a scar.

​

Many years later, I found out that it was my mother talking to me, not my Aunt as I imagined.

​

I somehow replaced my mother's voice and image with my Aunt.