Oct. 8, 2015
p.4
Colors envelop me as I speed through the frosty hills. Dazzlingly bright snow forces me to squint. Racing down the slopes, I try to keep up with my father, who is weaving in and out of trees. The cold air swooshes into my face, invigorating my senses and mind. Speeding up and slowing down, I drift around trees and rebound off bumps, enjoying the experience thoroughly. Before me, arises a steep slope, and I ready myself for some fun. I come closer and closer, and finally, I see what’s awaiting. The moment I reach the decline, my knees ram into something. As my knees make contact, I double over and my feet leave the …show more content…
Through blurred vision, I see someone ski down for help. Snowflakes slowly drift onto my face. The cold ground numbs my burning body, soothing me. By now the snowboarder has left, and I later learned that he was completely fine besides a few bruises. Every now and then, my father speaks to me, asking how I am. He still seems to be shocked, not understanding what happened. I mumble nonsense, as my mind has already wandered away. My mother, who was always extremely strict, would no doubt be furious at me because of all the problems the accident will bring on, with the most prominent being money. And what about school? How will I be able to go to school and complete all of my assignments in this condition? Thoughts deeply immerse me as I worry, but they don’t last long. Soon, a man on skis reaches us, towing a sled behind him. Pushing on one side, my father and he manage to roll me onto the canvas. Once again, pain immerses me and I cringe. I fold my arms across my chest and Zipp! Darkness settles in. The ride is …show more content…
You can’t cut my jacket. I’m still going to wear that,” I say pleadingly.
“Well then, it’s going to hurt when we’re taking it off.” I nod vigorously, accepting the consequences and choosing to proceed anyway. They tug on the sleeves of my jacket and start wrenching it off. I grit my teeth from the pain and close my eyes, and within ten seconds it is over. Now they inspect me. After prodding here and there, and asking where it hurts, they proclaim my left arm and right leg broken, with my other leg being heavily bruised.
“Here, these will help.” An unknown hand offers me a pill bottle filled with painkillers. Gratefully, I take one and swallow it. Instantly my pain lessens and my body slowly becomes numb until I feel like I am a soul and no longer own a body. My mother comes into the room and as soon as she sees me, she rushes over and fires off questions one after another, and my worrying ceases as I see she is on the verge of tears out of anxiousness. The paramedic asks her to step back and explains that I will be going to the Children’s Hospital. She agrees to come with me and I am loaded into the back of an ambulance. On the way there, I am carefully monitored. Every ten minutes a paramedic asks me to rate my pain from 0-10, and he measures my heart rate. My mother, who is sitting in the front, often turns around and asks me questions, and I answer positively, not to worry