The Golf Cart Crash | Teen Ink

The Golf Cart Crash

November 14, 2016
By Silverpop11 BRONZE, Portland, Oregon
Silverpop11 BRONZE, Portland, Oregon
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

When I was only five, I got my first taste of driving. It all started on a visit to my grandmother’s house. She owns an RV Park and has a big house in the middle of it with a big open field in the back. I was only allowed to play inside unless there was an adult with me. On this visit, I was playing with action figures and eating my mac and cheese when my Aunt Loretta walked in. She asked me if I wanted to drive the golf cart. Of course that sounded amazing because at this point the only thing that I had gotten to drive in my life were my matchbox cars.


We headed out back to the big open field and she told me to get in the golf cart. She said to turn the key and press my foot down on the right pedal. She told me that the right petal was the gas and the left one was the break, then let me go. I was riding it for a while, having a great time, when my aunt told me to come back to the trailer where she was. I drove over. I thought that the golf cart would slow down enough to park right in front of the trailer, but it didn’t. It just kept rolling. For some reason didn’t think to put my foot on the break. I straightened my arms and braced for impact. The next thing I knew I was on the ground crying. (I was five and I didn’t know that you want to loosen your hands on the steering wheel and not straighten your arms, but now I do).

 

I was taken to the ER and when I got there they put this weird arm sock on my left arm and then they showed me twelve colors. The doctors said, “Which color do you want your cast to be?” I chose green and blue. They got two packets and tore them open. The doctors put them in a bucket of water then pulled them out and wrapped them around the arm sock that they put on my left arm. On the way home the cast began to dry and harden.
I'm fourteen now and will be driving in less than a year. I have broken my left arm two more times since then. (That’s three times, if you didn’t figure it out). The moral of the story is be safe and don’t put yourself in dangerous positions. I need to keep working on that.


The author's comments:

please publish me if you do I will get a better grade


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