In the dimly lit room, the boy sat on the edge of the bathtub, his legs dangling into the warm water. His tiny hands were coated in soap, but they trembled as he gripped the nail clippers. He was only six years old, and this was his first time doing something so grown-up. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and began to cut away at his toenails. His little fingers fumbled, making the task harder than it needed to be. Suddenly, there was a sharp click, and a piece of his toenail flew through the air, landing on the tile floor with a tiny clink.

He felt something sharp poking into his finger. Startled, he let out a yelp and pulled his finger away, only to see a tiny fragment of nail embedded in the skin. He sucked on his finger, trying to stop the blood from dripping, but it didn't seem to help. Panic began to set in as he realized what had happened. He'd accidentally swallowed a piece of nail!

Time seemed to slow down as he sat there, staring at the bloody fingerprint on the wall. His heart raced, and his breath came in short, ragged gasps. He didn't know what to do. He'd heard horror stories about people swallowing foreign objects and how horrific the procedures were to remove them. The thought of going through something like that was terrifying. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to calm his racing thoughts. Finally, he mustered the courage to stand up and limp over to his bed. He climbed under the covers and lay there, staring up at the ceiling. The room felt cold and lonely, and he couldn't help but shiver. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine himself somewhere else, anywhere else but here. But no matter how hard he tried, the image of the tiny piece of nail lodged in his finger kept creeping back into his mind, reminding him of the awful truth.

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Just then, he felt a tickle in his throat. He tried to swallow it away, but it refused to go down. And then, without warning, it happened.

There was a wet, gurgling sound, and the tickle disappeared. He lay there, breathless, waiting for whatever had just happened to pass. But when he opened his eyes and looked down at his lap, he saw it: a tiny fragment of nail, shining in the light, lying on the bedspread. He blinked, feeling a mix of relief and disbelief wash over him. The nail was gone. It was over.