Tears of Blood
The sight of fresh, red blood as it dripped down my sister’s arm from her freshly picked scabs made me nauseous. It was as if her blood triggered a past, traumatic experience that I had blocked from my memory. […]
The sight of fresh, red blood as it dripped down my sister’s arm from her freshly picked scabs made me nauseous. It was as if her blood triggered a past, traumatic experience that I had blocked from my memory. […]