On the first day of kindergarten, my mother had elected to drive me to school.

We were both nervous and she wanted to be there with me all the way up to the moment

I walked in the class.

It took me a bit longer to get ready in the morning due to my still-mending arm.

The cast came a couple inches past my elbow, which meant that I had to cover the entire

arm with a special design latex bag when I showered.

The bag was built to pull tight around the opening in order to seal out any water that might

otherwise destroy the cast.

I got really adept at cinching the bag myself.

That morning, however, perhaps due to my excitement or nervousness, I hadn't pulled the strap

tight enough and halfway through the shower I could feel water pooling inside the bag around

my fingers.

I jumped out of the shower, tore the latex shield away, but it could feel that the previously

rigid plaster had become soft after absorbing the water.

Because there's no way to effectively clean the area between your body and a cast, the

dead skin that would normally have fallen away merely sits there.

When stirred by moisture like sweat, it admits an odor.

And apparently this odor is a portion of the amount of moisture introduced.

You can soon after I began attempting to dry it, I was struck by the powerful stench

of rot.

As I continued to frantically rub it with a towel, it began to disintegrate.

I was growing increasingly more distressed.

...