This is my reply from a thread long ago, for the sake of time.

The summer after high school graduation, some coworkers at my fast-food job decided to throw a party. We were all under 21, I wasn't even 18.

So I'm at the party. I'm pretty drunk, as I had no car and my ex boyfriend/coworker had told me he would take me home. He hadn't been drinking yet. At about 2 or 3, he took me and, before I got to the door, drove away. The door was locked; my room had been dark and closed for hours, my parents had assumed I'd come home and gone to bed. I didn't have my housekey with me for some horrible reason.

I didn't want to knock on the door. I was drunk and knew that would piss off my parents something fierce.

I checked the back gate and found that the recent rains had swollen the wood, rendering it was impossible to unlatch the damned thing. I had to hop the fence.

About the fence: it was a 7 foot tall cinder block wall with wrought-iron ornamental filigree and arrowheads which exteded another foot up. The arrowheads were thin and not all that sharp, but very rusty, being over 100 years old. I'd never hopped it before.

I unsteadily climbed to the top of the fence and stood on the brick. Then I realized I had no idea where to go from there. What happened next is a little foggy. I remember somewhat crouching down, then I was hanging. I realized a second (minute? Time ceased to be) later that my feet weren't touching the ground. I looked up at my right arm and realized it had an arrowhead inside of it. I was literally hanging by the arm. I don't know if it was shock or the alcohol or both, but I used my other arm to grab the offending arrowhead's base and hoist myself off of the fence. I knew this was a bad injury, the worst I'd ever had, although it didn't hurt yet. I emotionlessly chanted "oh, fuck" as I walked around to the back door.

Which, of course, was locked. I climbed through the dog door on my hands and knees, made my way to the bathroom, and thought about what I was going to do.

I thought, it doesn't hurt, maybe it isn't so bad. I could dab some hydrogen peroxide and neosporin, wrap it up, and go to bed, right?

Wrong. I got to the bathroom, locked the door, turned on the lights, and, for the first time, looked at the injury.

There was a 2-inch wide, v-shaped puncture in my bicep. The pointed side was pushed into the wound, giving a clear view of the inside of my arm.

In that moment, I realized I would have to go to the ER. I would have to wake my parents. I made a decision: time to gargle mouthwash to get the beer smell off of me. Then I started the hot water faucet in the sink.

When the water heated up, I placed my injury under it. Until this point, the entire arm had been completely numb. The hot water woke up the severed nerve endings and I started whimpering and crying, apparently loud enough to wake up my mother. She knocked on the door and asked what was happening. I lifted my bloody arm, the sight of which sent her, without a word, back into her bedroom to rouse my dad. She'd never been good with her children's injuries. When I cracked my skull on the bed's headboard at age 4, she couldn't even accompany me to the hospital for stitches.

My dad was dressed and we were in the car less than a minute later. He asked me if I'd been drinking, to which I replied, "no, of course not" through teary and suddenly sober eyes. I didn't like lying, but I was not about to have done all this for nothing.

It's been a few years since then. I got seven stitches, a tetanus shot, and a prescription for Percocet. The doctor said I missed my major blood vessels, (thank god for small miracles, right?) but the metal had sliced nearly all the way to the bone. I was in a sling for a month or so and had to learn to do tasks with my non-dominant side, which is useful. My right arm has never been as strong since and I'll have this weird scar forever. But! Now I have this story. So I'm glad it happened.

Tl;dr Drunk 17-year-old tries to hop a fence to avoid parents knowing about drunkeness, fucks up, winds up in the ER. Gets stitches and a shot, rewarded with an oddly-shaped scar and an amusing anecdote.