The Hill-Personal Narrative

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The Hill-Personal Narrative

To a ten-year-old, it was the only reason to live. The only reason to get up in the morning. The only reason to come straight home after getting off the bus.

I received this present on the morning of my tenth birthday. I awoke to the sound of my family singing in my room. I can hear them now, "…happy birthday to Betsy…happy birthday to you." I threw a pillow at them and told them to get out. When I finally crawled out of bed, to my surprise, a pink string was tied to my door. I had to follow this string throughout the house. It went downstairs. Back upstairs. Downstairs again. Through the kitchen, into the living room and the family room, then down to the basement. Still following the string, I went around the corner and there was my new best friend, the toy that I would take everywhere for the next three summers.

The Murry All Terrain Explorer 10 Speed was its name. Going to new undiscovered places was its game. This bike was the ultimate bike, the bike of all bikes. It had the super deluxe water bottle carrier. The extra "cushy" seat that made you never want to sit anywhere else, and the "easy" change speed controls were the best. This bike was mine, and I loved it. It was shiny, and it had that "new bike" smell to it. The handlebars and the seat were electrifying hot pink. You had to wear sunglasses to look at them! To a ten-year-old, this was the most beautiful piece of metal in the world.

Its sleek design just seemed to shout, "speed!" When I was on this bike, I was in my own world. It took me to places that I never thought were in my neighborhood. We went down every street and around every turn. I saw new houses and new trees. The pedals were shiny black rubber that invited my feet to hop on for a ride. It was these pedals that took me to "The Hill.

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