i was in primary 6 when i happened.
it was after school, i was busy doing something in class with two other classmates. it was your usual primary school scenario; kids being kids even though we plead so hard to be respected as young adults (maybe we still havent recovered from that stage yet). i was basically having fun with these other two guys, though i have no idea exactly what i was doing.
time flew by and soon enough, we had to leave.

one of the two friends that were with me was lagging behind. he was always a sloppy untidy kinda fellow, but likable nonetheless. my other friend and i were already outside the class waiting for the slow-ass to make his way out.
as he was approaching the door, i had this brilliant idea to slam the door in his face preventing him from coming out. you know that usual silly joke that we should have outgrown by now.
but i didnt slam the door, i told the friend that was outside with me to do it. he was bulky bodering on fat so i thought he could hold it down better that i ever could.
all i did was stand back and told him to press it down harder and harder, kinda cheering him on.

the friend inside didnt complain or whine or anything, so, as you can guess, we lost interest in this fast. when we opened the door, however, well.... lets just say that we didnt see this one coming.

he was lying on the floor, clutching his left wrist. his index finger was crushed. it looked like a bloody pulp connected to his hand or something. he was groaning in pain and tearing. come to think of it i'm kinda surprised that he didnt pass out or anything.
the pain he mustave felt...

we rushed him to the toilet to wash up the bloody pulp. (this is a no-no by the way. never do this.) we ran it under tap water and he howled in pain. it was here that i saw that finger upclose.
i could see his bones, and his nail was unrecognisable. his flesh was in bits and pieces, some still intact, some hanging by a thread piece onto his hand. blood, as you can imagine, was all over.

i ran to get help while the other guy stayed behind. the rest is as expected. the teacher came rushing, brought him to the hospital which was thankfully just across the street.
he recovered just fine and dandy. the scars are all's that left.

i'm sure the chap's fine and dandy now, unless he got some other part of his body wedged between the hinges of a door. thankfully, none of this impaired our friendship (which is as superficial as most primary school relationships are in my opinion) and life continued as if nothing happened.

i still feel horrible that this happened. i still remember the finger, aka bloody pulp attached to hand, and sometimes i think about it. about what i should've done and what i shouldnt've.