Narrative Essay On My Golf Cart

Last Time I Rode My Golf Cart I finally could see again. Blood ran down my arms and knees. My head spinning and throbbing, weak and unable to move. I couldn’t believe that riding in a golf cart, something that I had done since I was three, could result in an accident. That never should have happened.
Thursday afternoon, my parents invited the Gillihan family over and Laney stayed over the night before, so she was there. We all watched football. Us kids, bored out of our minds, decided to ride the golf cart. Our golf cart can only hold three people and there were five of us, so two of us rode on the back. We strapped ourselves into where the golf clubs go.
I started out driving and we rode around the neighborhood and on the golf course, listening to our favorite songs. After a while, our faces were slumped down and faces resting on our cheeks. Mason,

My head spinning I could finally see outside and where I was at. I just realized I fell off. My eyes filled up with tears I started bawling; I was shaking and looking around to find my parents but they weren’t there. I see this person running down the dark green grass. I could barely see who it was but he came closer and I see my neighbor. Everything I tried to look at looked like I was looking underwater without goggles. There were red blotches all over the street. I guessed that it was my blood, it was from my knees and elbows. A bad headache came, my neighbor asked me “Do you know your name and your parents?”
I said “Yeah I’m Ava Hauser and my mom and dad are Chad and Mindy Hauser.”
He said “Good job! Can you count to 10?”
“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, . . . . eight, nine, ten,” I said hoping it was right.
“Good now say the alphabet,” he said.
I said it slowly, but I knew the alphabet.
He lifted me up and helped me to the golf cart. I slowly stepped on and sat down on the cushioned seat. He was telling me to go home, but I thought I can’t drive I can barely