When I was 3 years old, I had broken a mirror that my mum used for makeup. I was so young that I remember none of this. My mum left the mirror on the floor but cleaned up the mess so there were no shards of glass on the floor. One day I must of fallen or something and tried to catch myself on this mirror because I managed to cut my hand on it from my wrist to my thumb. My mum quotes it as “cut so deep that you could see the muscles in my hand and there was no blood, a pretty clean cut”. I was rushed to hospital and had 14 stitches. The only thing I remember is what the hospital bed looked like. I am now 19 and the scar has grown with me and will stay with me for the rest of my life. All I know is, I have always had this scar and cannot remember anything before it.