It's been many years since I took this out.
One of my oldest memories involved nipping my mother's finger with this.
I don't remember how it happened, but I remember all of a sudden there was a good amount of blood all over the floor, the cloth and even on this scissors.
It happened late in the night as I also remember the hushed tones in the chaos because my father was already asleep.
I had some polka-dot pajamas bottoms in those days that I'm sure were formed from cloth with these.
Dark blue with white dots.
I wore them at the wake.
There was not many other pieces of clothing that did not have any red or bright colors on it.
That sticky brown part at the tip looks abit like it has dried blood on it.
It is probably only my imagination.... fueled by a what if, a longing, a missing of someone I don't even remember what it felt like to have had anymore.
But I can't bear to clean it properly. Just in case.
2ee had her own pair of black scissors that looked even more menacing than this one.
She was also always making me stuff from scratch in the good old days.
I hope it is still around somewhere for me to claim ownership on.
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