Starting a fire in the garage was stupid. I was ten and the flame jumped to a gas can. I remember heat and sirens screaming. At the hospital they told me my legs were stumps. Strangely, all the misery brings unending attention. Teachers are quick to cut me slack and my parents regret not being more attentive. I keep hoping some cute girl’s sympathy will result in extended benefits. Looks like I can cruise through college and land a cushy career behind a desk. All in all, it's been worth it. Just don’t tell anyone I said that.
I like the end... "just don't tell anyone..." It's how I feel about things sometimes.
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