It was a gloomy day, one of those days where it seemed like the sun was absent from the sky. Sitting on the blacktop in the pickup zone, I was thinking about riding my sister’s scooter once I got home. I scanned the driveway looking for my mom’s car, a large white Toyota. Once I found it, I picked up my backpack, and ran to the door. I jumped in, and my mom asked,”How was your day?”
“It was great Mom! By the way, can I use the scooter?”
“Sure, but you should ask your sister. She might get mad.”
We laughed together, unconscious of the troubles it would bring. Mom picked up my sister from middle school, and we drove home.
Once my mom parked the car inside the garage, I hopped off and went to grab the gray and yellow scooter sitting in the corner. My sister got off the car with her backpack and said, “Who said you can use my scooter?”
“C’mon, please?”
“No!”
“Why?”
“Because it’s mine!”
“Who said that if it’s yours you’re the only one that uses it! Besides, you never use it!”
“You’re still a second grader! And I’m in 6th grade! So you better listen to me!”
My mom, who had come out of the car, said in an irritated tone, “Let him use it. It’s not going to hurt you in any way.”
“FINE!”
My sister stomped into the house. Once she shut the door closed, I looked at my mom and complained, “She’s always like that.”
“That’s what sisters are. Now go on.”
I hopped on the scooter and rode it out of the garage. There was a small space in the front of our house where I usually played, including this day. The space was divided into four tile-like concrete surfaces, each of them about three meters on each side. I rode up and down the hill next to this space, joyful of my playing time.
After a few minutes, I decided to play a game where I counted how many times I can spin around the four tiles in ten seconds. At first, I was making big circles, but since I wanted to challenge myself, I made my circles smaller and smaller. I was about to stop to catch a breath when the front tire of the scooter drove into the center of the four tiles. There was a small hole in the center, and I was smart enough to let my scooter run towards it. I was riding the scooter at a what seemed like high-speed, and the scooter fell sideways with me on it. I did not fall on my head (I wasn’t wearing a helmet) which was a good thing, but since I opened my mouth to say, “What in the world,” I fell on my teeth. I didn’t even have time to finish my sentence. I heard a scratching sound from inside my mouth as I fell, and I remembered that I used to tell my friends that my “teeth moved out of its place” after the event.
My teeth were in pain as if I had just gone to the dentist to pull out a cavity. It was the most painful thing that had happened to me in all of my elementary school years. My eyes filled with tears. I managed to stand up, and staggered to the garage door. While I was trying to reach the door, I looked down and saw a few drops of fresh blood on the surface of the garage. I felt like laughing, which was strange because I had just been injured .
As I finally got into the house I tried to get my mom’s attention. I could barely make out a sound, since I was sobbing at the same time. Mom was walking down the hallway when she saw me. Her expression turned from surprised, worried, then to mad. “What did you do?”
“I-I- f-fell off t-the s-scoot-ter.”
“What?”
My mom walked me to the sink nearest to the garage, and then she told me to wash my mouth out. When I spat out the water, it included dirt and blood. My mom said in a mix between worry and anger, “Are you stupid? What did you think you were doing?” I stayed quiet. My mom grew impatient and said, “Wash it out. I need to go dry out the clothes.”
She left me there. I continued to wash my face and mouth thinking to myself, what have I done? I recalled what I did, with my thoughts still blurry. I didn’t know how I should feel. Upset? Ashamed? Angry? None of them seemed to fit my feelings. I did know one thing. It was that I was stupid like my mom had said earlier. It was unnatural to call myself “stupid,” but I had felt this way.
Once I washed out my mouth, I walked to the family room. My sister who saw me in the hallway said, “What happened to you?” I kept silent. My sister rolled her eyes and walked away. I didn’t care about what she did. I wanted be left alone, and review my actions. I sat on the sofa while memories came back more clearly. I slowly sequenced my memories. I notice things that I didn’t see while I was washing my face and mouth. I told myself, I should not have played around that place in the first place. Then none of this would have happened.
As I look back to my memories, I noticed I have changed from this event. Because I fell off of my sister’s scooter, I became more careful and more thoughtful on the consequences something might bring. Though I sometimes do not be thoughtful or careful, I can always tie back to this memory remind myself. This helped me in many situations later on. I know it will help me in the future too, because it holds a valuable lesson for my life.