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Bloody Torture

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Okay seriously, what’s the deal with scabs? They form across our bloody injuries in a nuisance to heal, but instead, what do they do? They mock us!

The itching, the picking, the unattractiveness, it’s all just too much. I mean, no wonder they are red, they probably work for the devil. No, wait, scabs are the devil. With their intense scarlet color and easy breakable bond, scabs and the devil obviously have the same mission. This is, clearly, to scar us for life.

With all the children today, it seems scabs are accomplishing their task rather easily. Factors like monkey bars, snow and sports, are major contributions to the growing scab population. Also, with kids and scabs, well why not pick them? The soft crunching noise of dried up crusted blood is a perfect start to the day, and one of the best noises received through a child’s ear. But I still don’t understand. Why don’t scabs put up a fight? Oh yeah, because they are weak little minions aiming to turn us in to Harry Potter look a likes!

According to Neosporin Renewal Therapy, “77% percent of scabs on children ages 2-16 are picked, leaving scars, and the other 23% are simply left to fall off, most likely leaving a scar as well.” So honestly, whether you pick it or not, you’re going to end up with a lighter color patch of skin, which totally clashes with your overall tone.

However, not only do scabs itch, clash, and scar, they argue. Their taunting stare peers through our thin soul and eventually takes it over, leaving us with a bloody wound, once again. Now in my opinion, scabs are as ugly as Betty herself. But not just on the outside. The way they can win a debate, without saying a word, the way they can hypnotize non-pickers to pick, the way they can constantly come out on top, oh it sickens me. Sometimes, scabs are so itchy, I feel as if I’ve been bitten by a 2 foot mosquito, and I can’t scratch to relieve the constant temptation. Oh temptation, one of the scabs common threats against future skin.

For most kids, as temptation increases, hatred grows. For, these tiny little bits of dead skin seem to have all the powers of a literature genius, and they can’t even talk! It frustrates me and at the same time saddens me to even think that a scab is more powerful than a human being. But what else can I say? They don’t even do their job right. Yes, scabs are supposed to act as a doctor or nurse. They are supposed to seal a wound and block them from further infection. But instead, they act more as a medieval torture unit. A unit meant to increase one’s self discipline. Well what does self-discipline have anything to do with a bloody cut? Nothing, yeah, nothing!

I guess what I’m really trying to say is that scabs, as a whole should be fired. From the world. They obviously don’t take on the responsibility necessary to for fill a successful, scar free, human life. I mean I guess if I didn’t fall so much I’d have a different opinion, but right now, I’d like to send those dry dirtballs back under the bed, where they can stain my floor all they want! But what they can’t do, is scar my skin. I decide when and what shape will remain on me forever. Not, some amateur miracle worker.





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