Searing pain. It hurt to move, and I could not eat or drink anything. I was alone on my downstairs floor, barely capable of moving without pain. It was the beginning of my 8th grade year, and I feared I was going to die. I was left home from school, while my parents left for work that morning. Everything I attempted to eat was nearly instantly thrown up. I could do nothing, it hurt to walk. I was left at home, in agonizing pain for hours. My parents returned home around 3p.m. that day, and knew something was wrong. They were not sure how bad it was at that moment, however. After dinner, which I would not (and could not) take a bite of, my parents knew something was horribly wrong. I was immediately rushed to the emergency room, which awaited my arrival. There was what felt like hours of waiting; my body seemed to laugh at me, while all I could do was keep myself from keeling over. The wait was in reality only around 10 minutes. I go in, and they ask me where I had pain. They were not yet sure what was wrong, until they accidentally pushed down on the right side of my stomach. I yelled out in pain like a wounded animal would, and they then knew there was something wrong with my appendix. They gave my family two options: either wait overnight, to see how things go, or to have surgery that night. We decided that I would have surgery. Moments later, everything goes as black as a sad, starless night. I was being pumped intravenously with anesthesia. I wake up the next morning, and attempt to get up. I realize I'm in a hospital bed, and there is a nurse by my side. She informs me that my appendix would have burst if I had stayed overnight, which would very likely have killed me. I returned home two days later, but did not return to school for a little over a month. To this day I still have my appendix scar, and a hollow feeling in my stomach whenever I'm reminded of this time.