I was nine and I felt like I was the coolest kid on the block; I got to hang with eleven year olds. The eleven year olds just happened to be my next-door neighbors. I just got a new scooter and my ego was boosted even more. Today was the day. I could feel the anxiety filling me up like rain. I could ride my scooter with all my friends around the cul-de-sac. I figured I was so cool because I was not wearing a helmet or any padding to protect me from the slightest of falls. I heard Maggie, one of my good friends, call my name numerous times before I actually answered. “Yes?” I asked. “Do you want to go up the hill to the first house and scooter down from the house to the cul-de-sac?” I looked at the giant hill and saw the house right above the cul-de-sac and decided that I could do it without a hitch. “Come on!” I heard Maggie call. I got up next to the house’s mailbox and looked at Maggie, signaling her to go ahead. A huge smile broke out on Maggie’s face, like the sun bursting through the clouds. I watched her go down the hill without a scratch or a stitch of fear. This is going to be easy as pie, I thought. Maggie turned around and waited for me to go down the hill. I pushed off, and I enjoyed the wind in my face and the exhilarating feel of accomplishment. “Wasn’t that awesome?” Maggie said. “Totally! Do you want to do it again?” I asked. “Of course!” she replied. We both carried are scoters up the hill and positioned them perfectly. I decided to go to the fourth house from the bottom while Maggie went to the first. I watched Maggie and the thrill on her face as she zoomed down the hill. I was next. I could only feel my heart pounding in my chest. I kicked off from the ground and went down the hill like a bat out of hell. When I got to the cul-de-sac, I forgot how to stop. I hit the curb and went soaring into the air onto a sharp rock. I felt no pain, but then again, I blacked out for a couple of minutes. When I woke up from my daze, I saw blood trickling down my hair and onto the ground below me. I began to cry, not because of the pain, but because of the blood. I was scared, how do I know what’s going to happen? Will I survive…? When I hit the rock Maggie ran to go get her dad from the house. By the time he got to me I was in hysterics. Mr. Pickett, Maggie’s father, took off his shirt and put it against the wound on top of my head. He ended up carrying me back to my house so my parents could take me to the hospital. I never saw my mom with such fear on her face, not even when I broke my leg when I was seven. My mom took me to the hospital, I had to wait twenty minutes till they let me in; apparently I wasn’t the only one with an injury. When it was finally time for the doctor to see me the bleeding died down to a regular wound. The doctor had to numb my head so he could put staples in it so the wound would be closed. I would give anything to go back to that day. I wish I could just have one chance to go back in time and maybe wear a helmet or not go to the fourth house and stay at the first house. We all make decisions we regret, and this is one that will stay with me forever. I still have the bald spot on my head from the third grade. Whenever I gain my courage to get back on a scooter I am defiantly going to wear a helmet.
One Tragic Accident
January 13, 2010