The night started out just like any other Friday night. It was a fall night with an enticing warmness that would lure you into a false sense that the world is perfect and that it will never change. I was eleven: Still innocent and naïve. My best friend Kollin and I and I were riding in the backseat of my mother’s Volvo. I remember how giddy with excitement we were. We just kept blabbering about the Gael football game we were about to go see. Over our pointless ranting about how the Gaels were going to crush the opposing team we heard my dad say words that made our jaws drop. We both exclaimed “What!” He repeated that he had tickets for the three of us to be able to go up the Iowa and Iowa State football game tomorrow! We sat there mouths agape. We quickly began raving about how much fun it would be. Before long we were back on the topic of Gaels crushing Manson. I remember Kollin saying he hoped the blood would splatter up to us and my mom quickly retorting that if we stuck by her we would be fine. I wish we would have listened.

When we arrived at the game we did what any two mischievous youth would do at a football game. Knowing better, we quickly wandered off and watched the Gaels score two quick touchdowns. We got bored as kids do. We roamed out of the entrance and into the warm welcoming darkness outside.

We were barely two steps outside of the entrance when we saw them. They were playing a violent game of two hand touch football across the grassy field lined by trees and football equipment. It took a few seconds before we relaxed enough to say anything. I remember how I could hardly stammer out, “let’s try to join in.” we raced and joined in trying to keep up with the gargantuan middle schoolers. They seemed to out run, out push, and all around play the two of us with apparent ease. As the darkness grew ever more complete, the game began to draw to a close. The falsely warm air began to betray a chilly sting that is so common on the eerie October moonlit hours of haunting. Being like most kids, we were idiots. We could easily have listened to my mother’s wise words of warning to us. Since we didn’t, we strayed even further out into the field which seemed as large as the Great Plains to us even though it is still merely one block long. Obliviously enjoying our time and raving about how tomorrow would be the best day of either of our lives; we started doing what everyone at that age does: climb. Still innocent Kollin climbed part way up into a tree and sat on a notch looking down at me laughing about how much higher he was than me. I clearly had to respond. So I quickly and thoughtlessly climbed up a stray board. The board seemed a perfect ramp even so I ignored the wobbling of it and started climbing. How foolish ignoring the warnings of people who have experienced themselves, the warning signs we chose to overlook and being goaded into being the fool. Then in less than a microsecond it happened. I felt the lightning shoot through my arm. Pain beyond pain. Fire burning though every nerve, I saw my right wrist bones. Some were gruesomely sticking up through the skin. I somehow staggered up a few steps and collapsed. I was blind with raw animal instinct and pain. Kollin came over and tired to see if I was alright. I mumbled go get my parents. He took a few steps then came back as if he wasn’t sure what to do. I then yelled voice laden with pain to get my parents.

It seemed like eons before they arrived. My dad carried me to the car and running several red lights rushed me to the hospital. I had to be told the rest because I went into shock and passed out but had immediate surgery. I regret the idiocy of being that young and not listening to my mother’s words. I paid a price for it. Worst part of all: Kollin and I missed the Iowa vs. Iowa state game.