The Race Down Hillary Lane

Decent Essays
Badders 1
Brynn Badders

Mrs. MacGee

Communication Arts IIB

27 April 2015
The Race Down Hillary Lane
“Broken bones are a common injury; an average of 6 million people in the United States will break a bone each year” (“Physical Fields”). Unfortunately, I was one of those people. It was Wednesday, August 19th, 2009, the first night of my fifth grade year. I was so nervous, but thrilled to continue attending school at Ridgeview Elementary School. Little did I know I would be out of school for two weeks and come back with a bright pink cast covering my left arm. I had just received my brand new pink bike and wanted to go on a steamy evening cruise. I already knew how to
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I was going so fast that I lost all control of my bike and could not come to a complete stop. I flipped over the handlebars on my bike and heard my left wrist snap like a branch. It was one of the most frightful sounds that I have ever heard. I can still remember the brutal, ear wrenching sound to this day. Thankfully, my neighbors were outside and they saw me fall onto the hard, rough cement. I was in so much pain, so I laid there on the ground with gruesome scrapes and bruises thinking, “God please help me.” My face turned as red as a fire hydrant, while I balled my eyes out. As soon as I looked down at my wrist I kept telling myself “this isn’t broken, this can not be happening.” While my worried looking neighbor was walking my bike back to my house, I was slowly walking with him and Carson. Carson immediately ran into the house screaming, “HELP!” My parents came running out to see what problem existed. My neighbor made sure that my parents were aware of everything that happened and eventually left after being truly appreciated by them. I weakly walked into my house then, sat on my bed while still crying profusely. The tears of pain and fear did not stop for a long time. I kept telling my family that I wanted to go to my friend Nikki’s house because her mom is a nurse. I trusted her with my whole heart and wanted to get her perspective on my wrist. Finally, my parents drove us to Nikki’s house. Her mom, said with
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