Standing in the old stone kitchen by the sink, Larry was standing to the left of me, buttering some bread with a large, old butter knife we had used for years. I had been made to stand there whilst he ranted and raged at me about whatever it was I done wrong. I was stood with my right hand rested on the edge of the sink and suddenly, as swift as a flash, Larry grabbed my right wrist, fixing my hand flat to the top of the sink and shouted’ “I’ll teach you, I’ll chop you’re f*****g fingers off!” Being left handed meant that he was in the perfect position as he was able to grab hold of my right wrist with his right hand and using his left hand, holding the butter knife, he bought it down in two sharp whacks onto the back of my hand. Two gaping wounds instantly appeared on the back of my hand and blood spurted everywhere. It had happened in an instant and I’m not sure who was more shocked, me or Larry. I squealed and wanted to be sick, blood was gushing everywhere, I could feel my breathing and heart rate quicken and I thought I would faint. Larry stood open mouthed and wide eyed for a few seconds then started shouting, “Sylvie, get in here quick, she’s bleeding all over the place!”………..
………… as it was, I was to be left forever with reminders of that day in the form of the two scars to the back of my right hand. They are now more faded and blend somewhat when tanned but remain as a reminder and something that makes me shudder at the memory of that day.