I gave up and put the needle above the desk. Defeated, I let a rancorous whisper escapes before scream:
"Moooooooooooooom!"
It took a little time, but after a short knock at the door, my mom enters the room. She still using their work clothes and tie up your hair with a coke.
“Did you call, Mimimi?”
“Mom please, don’t call me that.” I mutted and my mom’s smile grew it bigger.
“But you is just doing the Candy Mimimi of yours.” She answers. I became quiet and try to get serious.
“It’s alright…what happend Candy?”
Against my will I stand before her . It’s a heavy wound, and the skin around the cut is full of small holes from my failed tries to sew while pushing the intestines to inside him.
“It opened at my physical class, can you sew it for me?” I explain that I’m doing what my mom calls “Mimimi face”, but I can’t avoid it. I wanted to do this by myself.
My mom simply didn’t care and went out to get their sew kit, murmuring something about nasty kids.