All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
The Heelys Legend
The sunlight streaming through the window shined into my eyes as I woke up on that beautiful Saturday morning. I looked out of the window. The sun was shining and the grass was greener than ever. I had to go outside.
However, there was one problem. I was too overweight to walk (I would collapse in three minutes) and I couldn’t ride a bike because I didn’t have one that I could fit into anymore - another issue caused by my weight.
The solution to this dilemma clicked instantly. Heelys! My mom bought me a pair of Heelys last Christmas and I still needed to break them in. Brilliant! I ran to the shoe rack and there they were: my very own pair of black Heelys, tastefully decorated with flame decals. It’s like these shoes were made with one goal in mind: making the user extremely popular.
I strapped into the velcro shoes that would inevitably make me the coolest kid on the block and ventured out into the outside world for the first time in years. It was incredible. I was cruising, drifting left and right like a champion. I was unstoppable. I was going so fast. I couldn’t believe it. I felt like I could outpace a car in these magical shoes. It was pure joy. Stylish and practical, what can’t these shoes do?
When I came home that evening, I made sure to tell my mother what a great investment she made in buying these shoes for me. Heelys rides became a regular occurrence in my life. It was the most fun I’d ever had. These shoes gave my life meaning; for once, I was in control. I could do whatever I wanted to with these Heelys. They were my livelihood.
One day, I was on one of my Heelys rides as usual when suddenly, teenage boys who were much larger than me rounded the corner on their skateboards. They had ripped jeans and long hair, and one of them had a boombox playing punk rock music. These kids were edgy. I didn’t pay much mind to them at first; I thought they were just going to skate past me without interfering with my business. This is where I was wrong. The teenage boys pushed me down and insulted me for wearing Heelys. How could somebody not like Heelys? I was shocked, and most of all, hurt. I thought Heelys would make me cool, but alas, I was wrong. I walked home, my head hanging with shame and sadness.
When I came home that day, I retired my Heelys to my bedroom closet where they would stay forever. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. I would become edgy, just like those kids who pushed me down were. Then they would have no choice but to accept me, right? I ripped my jeans and dyed my hair black, as well as combing it over one eye. I started listening to edgy music like Linkin Park. I was becoming them. I was them.
The next day, I strode into school donning my new hairstyle and clothing. Upon noticing the teenage boys who had pushed me down and insulted me that day, I approached them and attempted to initiate a conversation regarding my newfound taste in music. I expected them to be impressed that I had adapted their lifestyle and accept me into their clique, but instead, they laughed at me for trying to be like them. I was so angry and upset that I ran right out of the school and all the way home.
I was furious. How could they not accept me? I practically turned into them! Fine, I thought, if they won’t accept me for my new self, then I’ll just have to become my old self again! I undid all the changes I made to my appearance (except for the jeans, unfortunately, they were ripped forever) and strapped into my Heelys once again. I continued going on my Heely rides and ignored the boys’ insults. They didn’t have anything on me. I would ride my Heelys in peace and they couldn’t stop me.
On one of my routine Heely rides, I began to notice that I was actually developing a skill. I was going faster than ever, I could do flips, I could grind on rails; I was developing quite the skill. When I returned home from the Heely ride upon which I made this realization, I went onto some Heelys fan message boards and explained my situation. The people on there explained something to me that would change my life forever. I needed to modify my Heelys.
I had been awake for hours. I had ditched school. I shifted the focus of that day from “going to school” to “modifying my Heelys to make them the best they can possibly be.” Tools were spread across my floor, my eyes were purple underneath from tiredness: I was going to make my Heelys the best in the world. At last, I did. By the end of the day, my Heelys were motorized and featured other excellent features, such as an advanced sound command recognition system and exhaust pipes (I needed to make my Heelys street legal). I wanted to test my Heelys out so bad, but I had to wait until the next day. I was too tired to go out. In fact, I passed out right there and slept well knowing my Heelys were the best in the whole wide world.
Twenty-two hours later, I woke up and immediately scrambled to the shoe rack where my Heelys sat. I picked them up and crammed my feet into them as quickly as possible, strapping them in with one fluid motion. I sped outside to my usual testing spot: the top of a large hill, perfect for gaining massive amounts of speed.
Here goes nothing, I said to myself as I fired up the ole Heelys and took off down the hill. I was nervous; in fact, I had never been so nervous in my entire life. What if all the time I spent modifying my Heelys went to waste? What if it didn’t make my Heelys better? What if it made them worse? I couldn’t bear the thought. I had to know now.
“Motor, activate!” I yelled to my Heelys. I felt my feet vibrate as my Heelys shifted into Motor-Mode. The speed was incredible! I could barely keep my balance as I weaved in and out of traffic at what must have been 150 miles per hour. I was easily outpacing any car, no matter how fast. I had invented a new way of travel. The new era of vehicular innovation was here: Heelys. I had become the Heelys Legend.
This new innovation in the field of Heelys spiced up my regular Heely rides substantially. It felt good to know that I was the only person in the world who had access to such speed. I was one step ahead of science. I had ascended.
One day, I was riding my Heelys as usual when I heard a scream followed by a loud crash. I Heely-ed onto the scene and saw one of those mean teenagers on the ground, bleeding from his head, with a flipped over skateboard next to him. He must have messed up one of his skate tricks, for he was bleeding badly. After a moment of contemplation, I decided to help him, despite his previous actions. I slung his unconscious body over my shoulder. I never would have thought I would have to do this (mostly because it emits 4000x the legal amount of fumes from my Heelys’ exhaust pipes), but desperate times call for desperate measures. I needed to get to that hospital.
“Heelys Turbo Nitro Boost, activate!“ I yelled loudly. Flames sputtered out of my Heelys’ exhaust pipes as I shifted into Turbo Nitro Boost. Suddenly, I was thrust into warp speed. This made Motor-Mode look like child’s play. It took intense skill to avoid getting hit by a car or running into a building, however, this was no issue for me. In fact, I had time to do a couple of backflips and some rail grinds. Anyway, I looked to my right and saw that the hospital was still 60 miles away (I live in the middle of nowhere). I had to access more power.
“More power!” I screamed at my Heelys. My Heelys had become sentient; they had become an extension of my lifeforce. My speed had reached a new level. It was my mission to save this man, for he was only getting worse. He was bleeding so badly that my clothes were soaked in blood. He was still alive, but barely. I summoned the power from within, and flames erupted from the ground as my Heelys’ seemingly flimsy plastic wheels scraped across it at speeds that shouldn’t even be possible. My vision clouded with darkness as my Heelys propelled me at velocities challenging the speed of light. I almost instantly made it to the hospital.
Once I arrived at the hospital with the nearly dead boy over my shoulder, I kicked my legs out from underneath me to dismount my Heelys. My Heelys skidded across the parking lot and struck the wall of the hospital, causing the wall to collapse. I ran inside and demanded that we be seen immediately. Upon noticing the severity of the injuries, they rushed us into a room and had a doctor there immediately. The doctor hooked him up to an IV, made sure no more blood could escape the wound, and conducted some tests to ensure that no long-lasting brain damage had occurred. Everything seemed to be all good and I could leave knowing that I wasn’t responsible for that boy’s death. I skated out on my Heelys and continued the ride in serenity.
A couple weeks went by after I had saved that boy’s life and it didn’t feel any different. I just continued going on my regular Heely rides and going about my schedule as usual, feeling no different after having been praised by every newspaper and news site on Earth (I had to deny many different interviews so as to not reveal my invention). I had used my Heelys to get that boy to the hospital, no big deal.
One day, I was on one of my routine Heelys rides when the skater gang rounded the corner once again. This time I was on edge. I knew what these mean boys were capable of. I prepared for impact but was surprised when I heard a quiet voice rise from the crowd.
“Thank you.” The voice was coming from the same boy whose life I had saved. He and his clique were personally thanking me. The boy (who I now know is named “Todd”) proceeded to introduce me to all of his friends, who were extremely grateful that I had saved Todd’s life. They were all very friendly to me and wanted me to join them. I had gone from a nobody to a somebody. I went several places up in the social hierarchy. I felt accepted for once in my life. I was right in my prediction that my Heelys would make me cool after all. At long last, I was happy.
The wind blew in my face as I raced down the road I had seen so many times: the dreaded road that takes me to class, this time with a twist.
“Faster, faster!” Todd and his friends chanted from the wagon that was tied to my legs. I grinned and sped up. We were making great time. I stopped at the school and let them hop out of the wagon before I turned around and left to pick up some more kids, such as another day in the life of a Heelys Delivery Person.
Our main character created his own company in the form of Heelys Delivery Inc., a company that made him rich, revolutionized transportation and immortalized him as a legend (especially within Heelys communities). He outright refused to reveal the secrets of his Heelys all the way up until his death. He died a legendary man and the mark he left on this world will never be forgotten.
Moral of the story: be yourself. Eventually, you will find a really cool kid dying on the side of the road and you can save him with your Heelys.