Feel free to tell whatever personal story you want! It can range from depressing to comedic, whatever, I don't care. And don't reveal the names of anyone in your stories, since they are real people and someone might try to harass or stalk them. If you want to talk about more risque topics, don't go into too much detail on what happened.
Once upon a time, I was at my papa's house. The house is a white cottage that's near the bayou, canfield is surrounding the house.
So, my dad was dove hunting with my sister and uncle while I was outside eating sugar cane, it was good. I when back inside to get a knife because my teeth were hurting (From biting off the shell of the sugar cane)
I happened to take down the newly sharpened knife my dad was going to use on the doves when he got back, so here I was in a small kitchen cutting away when my brother passed me up to go to the bathroom after he got pushed into ant hill by our cousin. He walked behind me and spread his nasty creators onto me. I thought a wasp stung me on the foot because it hurt so much!
So, I placed the knife on the countertop with the sugar cane and rubbed where it hurt… The knife then became offended and used its handle weight to fall off the countertop and onto my left hand. That day I stop complaining about the small blood droplets on the floor when we scrape our knees because this was a lot! Luckily our lovely country aunt was literally right next door, so she took care of me.
I was over at a friend's house and I was like 5 or something. We were playing outside and I think we were playing tag or something. All I remember is that i climbed on top of the fence. I was walking across it and being me and not having any balance I fell off. Not only did I just fall off, I also hit a nail on my way down. It got me from my waist to my armpit. It's faded some now, and isn't as long. I've never told this story to anyone else, not even my family.
This one time my cat got a needle stuck in her throat. We noticed she wasn't eating (very peculiar for my fat cat) and was acting lethargic and nauseous, so my mom took her to the vet and they pried her mouth open and there was just a sewing needle lodged in there. The vet just put their fingers in and pulled it out and she was fine, but my mom couldn't sew on the floor anymore.
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, Sol was in the day room, and they had just finished reading their book so they decided to go into their room and get another one. They enter the room and their roommate (we'll call her E) is sitting on her bed, strangling herself with silly bands. Sol gasps, E smiles. Sol runs out of the room and yells "E is trying to kill herself! E is trying to strangle herself!" The staff came running to the room and dragged E out after they had pried her hands and the silly bands off her neck. Sol still thinks about that to this day, it keeps them up at night. They wonder if E is still alive, as they have no means of contacting E. They can't stand to watch people wrap things around their necks, and they still have panic attacks sometimes, remembering E sitting on the bed, smiling, with silly bands tight around her neck.
I'm in a play right now (Don Juan) and our backstage is literally just a wall painted black and curtains. It's about five feet wide and super dark back there most of the time. Anyways, a week before the show started, I found some white chalk and started writing on the wall. I just wrote basic stuff, like a countdown till showtime and the general order of our show. I left the chalk back there and for a while, nobody was really touching it besides me.
Now one particular member of our cast (Wade) is a really good artist, and he spends the first half of the play hiding backstage with nothing to do.
Opening night I go backstage about 1/3 of the way through the show and I find him on top of a stool, drawing a FULLY SHADED picture of the devil's mask (his part in the play), with NO LIGHT whatsoever to help him.
Our second night I find him on top of the stool again. This time it's a drawing of the devil manipulating Don Juan on puppet strings. Again, no light to guide him, not even his phone flashlight.
When I ask him how he does it, he just smiles.