I was a figure skater for eight years. These years consisted of an abundance of improvements and cheers, up until my sixth year. One day at practice, I confidently attempted an axel I landed numerous times before. I remember taking off, and the next moment I was on the ice with a sore bottom. I shook it off and went for the jump again. Strangely, I fell again.…
I tested the waters of bicycle riding by dragging my feet along the bumpy asphalt, but gravity was working against me. The incline was not allowing me stop, so jumped off. I walked away with only some bumps and bruises. The riding of my bike was put on hold for some time. My fear had gotten the best of me. It was not until the next summer that I would venture out again on my bike.…
I was out on the rink speed skating in Arnold, Mo. That day had been perfect, I got a job, got an A+ on my final exam, and now I was skating. Everything at the rink was just fine till they closed the child rink and turned it into something that would make more money. I was speed skating when I came around the corner and instantly was greeted by a child falling in front of me. With no time to think I jumped, and when I landed, I landed hard on my skates stomping trying to regain my balance, bending my axle. Basically breaking my right skate, when I finally regained my balance I exited the floor mad and in a moment of rage.…
The Scar By Kildare Dobbs Source: The Act of Writing Pages: 43-49 Kiladore Dobbs's short story, The Scar, was written in 1968, and was written to detail the terrors that occur to Hiroshima in 1945. Dobbs himself was not there to experience this horrific event, but Emiko Okamoto was. The Scar is the story told by Emiko, and interpreted by Dobbs. Dobbs's writing style is very descriptive and vivid, thus bringing the reader to this experience, enabling them to have some form of a concept as to what occurred. This style of writing is effective because it makes the reader think that Dobbs was there himself, making him seem more educated and informed on this topic.…
In the course of my life, I have had quite a few scars. One physical scar was when I tripped, and landed on a rock, and cut my forehead. But the most memorable, was when I was eight years old, I was hurt when I accidentally landed on a table after being hit by a pillow. As a result, I had a wide open cut on the top of my head near my forehead from the landing. I was scarred for life. This was my second scar after I had the former at an earlier age.…
I have been in 4-H for eight years, in those eight years 4-H has taught me to be a leader, help others, and be myself. I was always shy around new people but 4-H has helped me so much with going and meeting new people that it is not a problem anymore. Being one of the oldest in a lot of 4-H events is taught me, I have to lead all the young ones and set a good example for them. I have been a 4-H camp counselor for four years and have lead many kids. I have had many of them say that I am a role model to them all. If there is one that 4-H has taught me the most it is to help others. In 4-H we do so many community service projects to help out the community. I have helped with many of them every year. A 4-Her is looked at not by what they look like but what they do.…
When I first started learning how to ride a motorcycle I was very scared. After a while, I started to get the hang of it, but before I could become good, I crashed it into a barbed wire fence. I can still remember that day perfectly. It was a sunny summer weekend right before school started. My brother and I were taking turns riding it. My dad was mowing the lawn and my mom was at work. When it was my turn to ride it, I was doing okay until the second lap. The end of the second lap is where everything went bad. I was in the grass on the side of a hill. I remember getting closer and closer to the fence. I slowed the motorcycle down and put it in neutral, but I was still getting closer to the fence. I should have used the brakes, but at that…
With white knuckles, rigid muscles and shallow breaths, I drove down the winding road with its faded lines and crumbling shoulders. My normal, confident and positive self had disintegrated into the scared and doubtful fragment that was left in the driver’s seat. My first time in that seat rattled me like no other experience had.…
I kept myself on pace, past the sidewalk, and down the small hill. My feet shuffled faster, my breathing became heavier. I lowered my arms, lengthened my strides and prayed to God that he would give me strength. My lungs began to scream obscenities, my heart threatened to leave my chest, and I was sure my legs were planning my murder. I started to embrace the pain exploding through my body. I began work among the strains of physical feeling and pushing myself against my mental limitations. Each leaden step burnt my tired muscles and bore into my brain. An undesirable battle presented itself to me. Demands made themselves prevalent in my mind.…
It all started back in 8th grade when I thought I could never get hurt or have a serious injury. It occurred when I was playing indoor soccer as I felt a pop in my knee. This left me scared and devastated lying on the court crying in pain.…
Here I am captured in this irritating street where all I can do is listen to music and look at Facebook. I am waiting for cars to start moving and continue with their destination. Little do I know that ahead of me is a two hour traffic. I am already tired, bored, and furious. I cannot believe I took this road home instead of my usual route. Why do I have to try new things? I should stick to what I know. While I sit in the drivers’ sit I am still wondering why I had the bright idea of taking a new way home, a way that I had little knowledge of.…
We stepped out into the night and drove to the hospital. Once we got there, the nurse asked me a bunch of questions. From 1-10, 10 being the worst, how much does it hurt? How did this happen? Oh yeah, I thought. I never really thought out how this all happened. So I guess it went like this: I sat on the couch, about to watch a movie. When I sat down, I sat on a broken piece of plastic. Then, my elbow started bleeding really bad, but the pain was worse Finally, I ended up at the hospital. After all of the questions, the nurse took me into a small room with my brothers and my dad. The room had a chair, a sink, and worst of all, a tray full of needles. I hated needles. I’ve already experienced what felt like a knife in my elbow, I can’t handle a needle now, I thought. When the doctor came in, she told me I needed 5 stitches. Great, now I need stitches! This day couldn’t get any worse, I thought. First, she stuck about 12 needles in my elbow to numb it. With every single shot, I squeezed my eyes shut, gripped my dad’s hand, and inhaled sharply. Then, she took a black, plastic thread, and began sewing my elbow together. I still remember my pink and white striped shirt, and my brand new blue shorts that were covered with tiny drips of blood. I looked away the whole time the doctor was stitching up my elbow, but by the look on my dad’s face, it definitely wasn’t pretty. All I felt was the tugging on my arm. After what felt like an eternity, she finally made a few knots at the end of the stitch. My brother took a picture and showed me. Eww, it looks like spiders, I…
From there on everything went on smoothly. I made sure to stay with my group at all times. My professor made sure to keep an eye out for me as well. I learned to never run down a mountain and to stay with my group. I had to limp the rest of the trip, but despite all the happened I had fun. It was a trip of many first and all the things I got to do and see made the fall seem so petty. My injury has not healed but the memories of the trip are going to stay with me forever. On the bright side, when it does heal I will have a scar to show off and a great story to…
Having broken wrists it's hard to do things and it's hard to heel. I was riding my bike to my school for fifth grade registration. I saw one of my friends at my school. Her mom asked if she can take my mom to my house. I was riding my bike home. I wanted to beat them to my house. I was going really…
The highway was a two lane highway with head-on traffic; I had swerved into the other lane of head-on traffic. I immediately swerved back into my lane; that’s when i began to loose control of my top-heavy car. The front end hit the cement that held the guard rail and sent us spinning out of control back into the other lane, putting us right in line with head-on traffic. I turned the wheel to get us out of the spiraling drift; we headed straight off the edge of the highway and over the embankment. The top-heavy car went on two wheels and I felt the car about to begin rolling but to save us from rolling I turned the wheels to jerk us back. Suddenly, we whipped around and started heading straight down the hill for a tree and a long barb wire fence. Feeling as if I could pull the car to a screeching halt by slamming my foot through the floor to the dirt ground beneath, I pushed the break pedal to the floor. Somehow I managed to stop the car right in the narrow place between the hole in the fence and right before the tree. Looked at Jillian and said, “Are you…