Personal Narrative Collosal Mistake

We were racing through the field and I just kept thinking to myself nothing bad will happen. There was an oil pumping jack on a hill up ahead. The hill was not to steep; it was much like a small ditch. The pumping jack was surrounded with white gravel. As we were getting closer Taylor started to slow down until we finally came to a complete stop. Taylor told us how she used to jump the four wheelers up the hill and how much fun it was. This was the point where I started to second guess being on the four wheeler with a person I did not know. Taylor sped up and jumped over the hill, she landed perfectly. Jadey decided to try it so I held on really tight, we sped up and shot over the hill. We landed great the first time and went back for another round. As Jadey got more confident doing this we began going faster and higher off the hill. It was the fourth round that did not go so well. We took off from about thirty yards away and were going fairly fast, over the hill and up into the air we went. The four wheeler started to tip forward and I could tell we were going to land with the front wheels first. Jadey panicked and hit the brakes right as the front wheels hit the ground which caused me to fly forward and fall off the four wheeler. The four wheeler ran over my left inner thigh and I hit my head on the hard gravel. It all happened so quickly that is was a

I have lost my grandpa and have not gotten over the idea of it. When I was in the sixth grade, my grandfather was very sick; he could barely walk. While my grandmother and some other family members went uptown for some household things, food, and medication, I was told to take care of him. Yet, I wanted to play with my friends outside. He told me to go ahead and play, but for some reason I just got mad and slammed the door and left. Around nighttime, I seen an ambulance pull up to my grandparents’ house.

“Should I scream dramatically like they do on tv shows?” “Should I try to slam on my brakes?” “If I swerve I still hit the other car”. All I knew in that moment was a car was about to hit me. While remembering that my sister once said the worst part about a car accident is the sound, I came to the conclusion that no matter what, the crash was going to happen. My head banged forward and the car came to a jolting stop. CRUNCH. “Okay” I thought to myself “the worst part is over”. But oh, how I was wrong.

As I stood on the outside of the arena watching teen girls traditional finish dancing, my stomach filled with butterflies. I walked into the arena as the announcer says “Next up teen girl's jingle,” with all the other dancers in my category. It was Sunday, the last day of Indian Summer Pow Wow, and my last contest for this pow wow, this year. Although I was nervous, I was also filled with happiness, confidence, and gratefulness. “Take it away boys” the announcer says. That’s when I knew that the drum group was going to start playing and this meant I had to start dancing.

When I think of my mistakes, it was a challenge for me to identify the biggest, let alone my favorite. After thinking upon of what I thought were simple insignificant mistakes, I found something that is also responsible for my happiness and health today. My biggest mistake was not getting injured, but continuing to train injured and treating the shooting pain as soreness. This injury lead me to many places, and through many treatments. It has been painful and arduous but the outcome helped pave the way I live my life.

The car shook and creaked as a motor took us up. For a few seconds, we were at the top. I looked around at the park, but then the car dropped and my stomach went with it. All I could remember from the rest of the ride was my first loop and the adrenaline pumping through my body. When I got off, I was dizzy but I yelled, “THAT WAS AWESOME!” My friends giggled as we walked to our next ride.

One of my strong points in writing is coming up with ideas and knowing how to get started on a paper. I guess you can say I am a free writer. Whatever in my head ends up on paper and I could write about a lot of things that matters to me or upsets me and feel passion when writing it down, but there also a weakness that I can’t overcome because my inner critic come along with it. Which makes me completely change and overshadow my own writing. I have a problem with revising and not being able to see the flaws in my writing, but that’s not it. I overpower one topic with another one in other words I would mash up two topics that is the exact opposite of each other which contradict my whole paper. The other problem is shorting up a sentence as well

The ground looked up at me menacingly. After an agonizing 2 minutes, we reached the curve at the top of the hill. As we rounded the bend, I glimpsed the drop ahead. The butterflies drummed twice as hard now. Then, the end of the curve was upon me, and we stopped! “What happened? Is something wrong?” All of the sudden, the brakes gave way. A yell tore itself from my lungs as we flew down the hill. My hands gripped the armrests like there was no tomorrow. But then, after the initial drop, excitement flared through me. “This is the best rollercoaster ever!” I thought to myself. The coaster took me up, down, and all around. It felt like I was flying, we were going so fast. But, to my despair, all roller coasters end. As we pulled up to the dismount station, I thought to myself, “I’m never going to forget this!”

Jake’s dad carried me into my house and sat me down in the nearest chair. On the way in, my neighbor, who is a nurse, saw the frenzy and came over to help out. She observed my cut for a little then came to the same conclusion as my friend’s dad: stitches.

When Alaina fell down the stairs, she didn’t really know what happened. All she knew was that she had been having fun one second, and was in pain the next. It was so quick, so fast, she didn’t even know what hit her. All she new was that she took a long, plunging trip down the stairs.

I knew this was my only break so I made the most of it. I spotted the house across the street and the cover it could provide. I left my bike on the ground as I ran over to the house quickly, not looking back the entire way. It felt as if my feet weren’t even touching the ground, the second they did they leapt up again in fear, as if the asphalt were lava.

Keep on pedaling! Keep on pedaling!” I whispered those words with a share of motivation. Three words made a great difference in my mind. As a sturdy rock climbed over on my way, thoughts flew across my head like a speeding jet. Was I going to fall if I suddenly stopped? What is dad going to think? Most importantly, what was mom going to do? I didn't know what to do. Maybe if I darted through, I would simply ski across the hump. I had no other hope. I was going to do it. As the bulge came closer and closer to me in distance, the bike knocked out. On the ground laid a flat-on purple bike that had tires spinning gradually slower through the time. Tears tried breaking through my eyes, but were barricaded from this strong girl’s mind. Looking down, trying not to get the worst out of it, I indicated a bloody bruise on my knee. Mom swiftly hurried to me, searching for bandages to cover the minor, yet sore contusion. Even with that painful mark, dad’s eyes glared at me with wisdom. After mom went inside to relieve the stress of my bruise and housework, dad took care of me for the rest of that

Most recently, I have been working on correcting my behavior (anger), and I am very proud of myself. I hope and pray that I continue to maintain improvement. Although, this whole process has been very challenging and nerve wrecking. I have been putting in all efforts into modifying this behavior. To tell the truth, sometimes I be torn in-between I know I can complete the task at hand or the h*$% with it and keep things the same. That being the case, I feel like I have come too far to go back to old behaviors. More importantly, over the past six weeks I’ve learned that it’s a must I break out of old mind sets, all together. I can honestly say for me to be half way finished with this contract I am truly learning more and more about my behavior

I said sorry. For the time I hit my sister. For the time I spilled food on the floor. For the times I was right. For the times I was wrong. For the times I made mistakes. I meant it when I said those three words, “I am sorry.” Because they represented much more. They represented the guilt and regret that I was feeling. And I was forgiven. For the time I left a bruise on my sister. For the time I made a mess. For the times I was right. For the times I was wrong. For the times I made a mistake on accident or on purpose. But saying sorry didn’t make the bruises go away. The words didn’t pick up the mess. They didn’t take back the accusations that were right or wrong. But I was still forgiven, even after I repeatedly made the same mistakes.

New things to me always scared me away, and riding a bike was no exception at all. After I changed into my brother’s old racing clothes, I went outside to get on my bike. I was struggling to sit on the seat of the bike and keep it balanced. After, I finally got adjusted comfortably my father came over and handed me a helmet. He helped me get to the end of our bumpy driveway.