My Sister's bed

When you are little your big sister is super cool.  When you are three and your sister is nearly 10 years older than you, she is the coolest thing on the planet.  I adored (still do actually) my big sister.  Many of my earliest memories are of her playing with me.  Anyway, when we lived in Germany she had a canopy bed, with a baby pink bed spread with raised white pin stripes.  I used to love to sit on her bed, while she did my hair or my nails or whatever and run my fingers along the ridges of the white stripes.  Her bed really was the coolest thing in the house.  One night, she invited me to spend the night in her bed.  I felt so grown up, and so pleased with not only getting to spend the time with my sister but getting to sleep in her amazing dream bed.  Unfortunately the dream did not last very long.  I don't know what time it was or exactly how it happened but I remember waking up, on the floor, under the window nest to the radiator.  I laid there for a second trying to figure out why I was on the floor while looking at the stripes on the dust ruffle.  At this point I reached up and touched my head because it itched ever so slightly.  When my hand touched my hair, my hair did not feel like hair should.  It felt wet and sticky. I immediately brought my hand down out of my hair and saw the red  blood and did what every self respecting four year old does when she sees her own blood, I screamed at the top of my lungs.  I am pretty sure that this is when my sister woke up.

I don't remember much from that point on.  I remember parents rushing into the room.  I remember my father prodding at my head, which now that I was aware that it was severely injured hurt instead of itched.  I remember being bundle into the car.  I don't remember the hospital, I only remember the bright light on the ceiling.  I remember two stitches and a butterfly.  And I remember that I was never allowed to sleep in my sister's bed again.