Falling Down

October 23, 2017
By Anonymous

“WAAAAAAAAH!” I cried as the blood gushed out of my knee. I knew that this was all because I fell down at the park, and I had to wear Band-Aids for many weeks, if not months. By now, I was thinking about what I had just done, and the consequences that I received.

Fifteen minutes ago, I was at the park with my brother, sister, and my mom. I was small; I was just six when this happened; my sister was just five. We were playing tag, and my sister tried to catch me at the time.

“Hey, try to catch me!” I shouted to her.

All of a sudden, she rushed at me, chasing me throughout the park, and I sprinted away from her (not very fast, considering that I was six). For three minutes, we were running around the park, until finally I stopped for a breath. Then, my sister crept out from the shadow of a tree, and sprinted at me, and finally she caught me.
Like this, we played tag, until we went into the pavement, blowing up stuff and, I hurt myself. I didn’t realize there was a step in the pavement, and so when I ran, all of a sudden my feet didn’t go where they were supposed to, too far. Then I fell, my arms flapping like I was falling off a cliff, though it was virtually the same for a six-year-old’s brain.

I fell down with a thud, trying to find m balance the best I could, but at last I fell down, as a cool autumn breeze blowed at my face. Thankfully, I didn’t hurt my head that harshly, as there were just a few scratches and marks from the impact. But, I soon realized that I couldn’t move my legs without help from my family, and so I moaned in despair. I thought that I wouldn’t be able to move my leg by myself for the rest of my life, and the mere thought of this made me want to cry.


I started bawling, forgetting that I was on the pavement. Passersby were watching me, wondering what was going on, when another breeze came, blowing the opposite direction now. I was beginning to think that my mom and sister would just ditch me here, never to be seen by them ever again.


Then, miraculously, my mom came, and I screamed, “MOM!” and she realized that I couldn’t stand or walk at all. She just picked me up, and, with my sister and mom, I got carried back to the car.


When we got back home, my father was waiting, and immediately saw the huge swath of blood on my knee, and asked me what had happened. I told him, about the pavement, the game of tag, everything.

He brought a very large bandage, and he stuck them on my knees. I felt tears of relief that he had done this, but inside those, I could also sense tears of terror and fright that I would have to take them off when the time came.

The author's comments:

My Language Arts teacher told me to.

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