I began to feel a little better after she washed the blood away and assured me that my wounds weren't fatal, although the gallon of peroxide that she poured on the cuts stung almost as bad as the hail had. Timmy sat snickering in the corner as he watched me grimacing with the pain. When she had finished brutalizing me, Widow Stanwick called both of our parents and told them where we were, then fixed us some hot chocolate and gave us each a huge piece of blackberry pie that she had just made that morning.
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