It was a warm spring day. The skies were blue and all of the third graders at recess were running around on the playground. I had been sliding across on the “zipline” for the entire recess thus far.
Roughly ten minutes had passed, and I was having loads of fun. I tried to make the zipline more challenging by sending the handhold about half way out along the line so that I had to dive to grab it. My hands were beginning to sweat. Another class had just exited the school to come to the playground, and I wanted to impress all of my friends, so I pushed the handhold out even further than before. I had made the dive plenty of times prior to the fall, but when I dove this time, my hands slipped and I fell. I believe that as I fell I may have blacked out for a moment, but I can’t be entirely sure. After the fall I was, as you may have guessed,
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“You’re bleeding!” he exclaimed. When he first pointed it out I assumed that he was pulling my leg. When I did reach up to touch my face, I pulled my hand down and saw that it was wet with my own blood. I had kept a level head until then, but when I saw the red liquid staining my hand, no matter how much I hate to admit it, I started crying like the little third grader that I was. My teacher, Miss Soper, heard me from where she was, clear over by the school. She rushed over to me to help. I was afraid that I was going to have to get stitches. Until this point I had never broken a single bone or gotten stitches once. I most definitely didn’t want to put a black spot on my perfect record! Miss Soper took me to the nurse’s office where the found a bandage to cover my nearly two inch cut with a bandaid. I lay on the bed in the nurse’s office while the called my parents to come pick me up. This whole time I was in tears. My parents finally arrived and picked me up. The first thing that I asked my mom was, “Do you think I’ll need to get
“It took Mother nearly half an hour to dress my wound. There was no remorse in her eyes. I thought that, at the very least, she would try to comfort me...
High school is meant to be the time of your life, but for most seniors just like me it can be some of the most emotional and crazy time. The things in my past make me who I am today, and the things I do now are the first footsteps into the future. I’ve learned a lot about myself in these past four years, and I still have so much learning to do. This is my high school story; the good, bad, and the ugly.
When I was entering into High School, I tried to join as many clubs as I can, since I wanted not only to be superior in grades, but also extracurricular activities. So as usual, I joined Key Club. At first volunteering at the events was fun, but as I went to more events, it felt as if it was a chore. I did not feel any passion; it was rather tiresome.
I was told that this, my junior year, would be the easiest year of my high school career. And no, they were absolutely wrong. It was not just school and grades that I was concern about either. I had other things to worry about, things like, driving, clubs, friends and family. I however had no idea that it would be this difficult. Throughout this school year I have learned many things; like the value of sleep, whose really your friend, and that although very important, grades are not everything.
Imagine you are riding home from school on a friday in the spring. The sun is shining there is a nice breeze and you are cruising along on your 21 speed. Then, all of a sudden you fly over your handlebars and plummet towards the sidewalk. That's what happened to me back in the 8th grade.
It was back in Mrs. Dobbin’s class, a couple days after my birthday. That year for my birthday, I had gotten my ears pierced. It was a couple days after that in class and we were doing a project. The project had involved cutting paper and Mrs. Dobbins had just told us to throw the paper on the ground and we would pick it up at the end. Well before we cleaned it up we were going to take a bathroom break. As I was walking up to the line to go to the bathroom, I had slipped on some of the paper and fell. I had fallen just close enough to the desk that I slid my ear across the old rusty desk and ripped it open. I remember bursting out in tears. I had gotten up holding my right ear and went up to Mrs. Dobbins and showed her.
Here goes nothing, I thought. I jumped up, I tucked, but then when I flipped it felt too slow as I was going through the motions, Seriously Morgan?! I was so upset. At least try not to smash your head open. I felt the pressure of my body going down I untucked myself. BOOM! At first I thought it was my knees but no, my feet hit the trampoline. I straightened up preparing myself to fall back. Still I didn’t. I stuck my landing.
Surprisingly, she didn’t have much of a reaction do to her extensive time working at the hospital herself, but I still think that a dangling fingertip, which was gushing blood would have gotten some kind of reaction out of her. Her reaction was quick, which I am thankful for, she quickly ran inside washed her hands and brought a rag to wrap my damaged fingers. We loaded up into her car and before I knew it we were at the hospital. BY this time the pain was starting to get to me, and everything seemed like a blur, but I did not show any pain or any signs of anything being wrong, except for the gushing blood and injured hand. We walked into the emergency room and as the nurse was checking me in they tried putting me in a wheelchair, and me being the stubborn thirteen year old I tried to explain to then that my hand was injured not my legs, but they were persistent in me sitting down. I finally complied and when I sat down completely I passed out. I guess the pain and the situation finally caught up to
I walked, or maybe limped, I don’t remember, back to the tooling area, went to my locker preparing to leave. When I took my boot off, that was when I realized how bad I was hurt. The boot came off and my foot swelled up like a balloon. I called for the factories first aid team, and they called for an ambulance. During the ride to the hospital emergency room (my first time in an ambulance), I heard the siren come on once
On Friday, we had the staff party and we all had the chance to share funny events that happened from the summer. I, of course, had shared about my embarrassing incident with the baby swing, but then how I couldn’t get out. This made everyone laugh, making me feel better about the incident. I will never forget the summer as the time I had gotten stuck in a baby
Aunt Leslie then snapped me out of my deep thought asking whether I was okay. I told her I was even if it was obviously a complete lie. "So shall we go back to Geraldine tomorrow morning? Or would you like to leave in the evening?"
My mom had helped me and we walked to the house. As she opened the door my little brothers were in tears as they ran to hug me and cried. My mom took off my shirt to see if I had any cuts, scrapes or wounds. Sure enough… there was a gash in my right arm and the underside. I remained calm as my mother went into a hysteric scramble for her phone.
They gave me some gauze and told me to apply a little pressure to stop the bleeding. Every time I would remove the gauze I could see how his flesh had been ripped, deep, in the shape of an "L". It looked as if one of the metal corners of the food shelves had dug a hole right into his cheek. I recall thinking that I had taken every precaution I could have to make sure he was safe. I still felt as if I had done something wrong. Had I turned the corner to quickly or been too close to the metal shelves? I remember feeling as if I had failed him in some way. Luckily after they stitched his cheek up, and as the years have passed by, his head has grown and the scar is almost completely off of his face.
Tears were pouring down my cheeks when all of a sudden in came the physiatrist. I got mad and said "you killed my parents, didn’t you? You killed my sister, didn’t you?"
The next day, once we got to the strawberry field my grandma (who had met us there because, my mom told her we were going strawberry picking) said,” let’s go to the back of the field where nobody has picked yet. On the way there I tripped over myself and fell on my leg. It was excruciatingly painful. My mom carried me back to the car ,let me sit in the front ,and prop my feet on the hard uncomfortable dashboard. I sat there for at least twenty minutes while my mom texted my grandma about what had happened.