She decided to cut off her finger to see how much blood would spill out.
The movies never got it right. Turns out way more blood than one would imagine flows from the stump of a severed finger. Blood everywhere. Even after she tried to wrap the wound, droplets splashed over everything and she knew she’d be finding the tiny crimson puddles for weeks to come.
And the pain.
It was excruciating. Vision gray, she’d gripped the counter by the kitchen sink with her uninjured hand and it took everything she had to not let loose with a deafening scream.
Maybe this hadn’t been such a great idea after all. She knew she’d have to blow a kiss goodbye to her dream of one day learning to play guitar, but still. Curiosity had gotten the better of her, as it often did.
Besides, she hadn’t taken off the entire pinky. Just the first two knuckles. Maybe she could still learn…