Short version: I got shot with a crossbow

Long version: I was hanging out with some friends, we got a couple of beers and we're all having a good time.

Then one of them goes "check this out" and pulls out one of those little crossbow pistols.

He starts waving it around and before I can say "Don't fucking do that" he shoots it right into my right shoulder.

Lucky me, the bolt glanced off the bone and tore a gash across my chest before landing on the floor.

My friends start freaking out about the blood and to be fair, so did I.

I managed to tamp the wound with a towel and call up another friend who drove me to the hospital (best bud foreverz believe it).

I went into the ER knowing that my parents would fucking kill me if they knew that not only had I been underage drinking, but had gotten shot because of it, so I hatched a really stupid plan.

I gave my friend my wallet and phone and went into the hospital.

Gave them a fake name, but real address and pretended like I didn't speak English very well.

I got stitched back up and before anyone else could ask me anything (or God forbid, call ICE), I booked it out of there.

I went back home and basically spent a month hiding the fact that I had a grievous wound from my family.

Learned how to change bandages and keep a wound clean and how to remove stitches real damn fast.

Lucky as hell I didn't get an infection or anything, but I did have a boss scar for a while.

Suffice to say, I didn't ever hang out with that first set of guys ever again