The Playground

Taken from fellow MA student Rhiannon Jones' website www.archivedactualities.com

I was with my friend Tim French on the playground near my house in Rise Park, Nottingham. It was one of those with a high slide where the top of the slide was in a cage it was so high. My mum wouldn't let me go down it. The ground was concrete. Tim and I were on the swings trying to go higher than each other. I shouted 'Watch this!' and attempted to jump off the swing when it was at its highest point. But I fell - and landed on my face. Apparently I blacked out for a couple of minutes and when I came round there was blood gushing from a hole in my chin. Tim said 'You can see the bone!' and rushed me home. I had to go to hospital and have stitches, a tetanus injection in my bottom and wear a massive plaster for a week.

In 2000 I fell over during a rehearsal in Morecambe and reopened the wound. I was trying a Titanic-style stance - arms outstretched leaning forward and again landed on my face. The floor was slippy. I was wearing socks. I didn't black out this time but there was more blood. And again the people there said 'You can see the bone!' More stitches. More plasters. More scar. A couple of years later one of the stitches fell out in the shower. Now it scares me when I shave and I grow a beard more than I would without it.

The playground soon got covered with wood chippings and they took away the slide with the cage at the top of it. Rumours at school were that someone had fallen off the top and died.