I got some sleep earlier today, but here I am haunting the house in the wee hours again.

A long time ago my brother was up past his bedtime, kneeling on the couch playing a video game and, when his guy died, he reared up and slapped himself on the forehead . . . and fell forward smashing his head on the marble coffee table. He then sat back down, saying don't tell mom, and started a new game . . . with blood streaming down his face. When the blood reached his eyes and he realized, we both agreed that maybe we should go ahead and tell mom. He had to get stitches and has a scar to this day.

--Amelia G