Biography: A Day Gone Horribly Awry
The wind flew through my hair. I had never been so tall! I could practically touch the fluorescent lights that blinded me as they dangled precariously from the ceiling high above.
I hovered above the world and for just a moment, I could do anything.
At eight years old, on a sunny April afternoon, I was living. Truly living.
Well... For an eight year old, anyways.
After finishing up my school day, I had walked myself down to the after school care classroom, and promptly finished my snack.
All I wanted was to get to the small gym that doubled as a cafeteria because Fridays were special at after school care. Fridays were free play day.
I grabbed the hand of the fourth grader next to me. Sara was always nice. She didn't have many friends in her own grade, but I didn't mind.
It meant that she'd always be willing to play with me!
We entered the school gymnasium and the smell of floor cleaner and rubber dodge balls assaulted my nose.
Yes, this is heaven, I thought to myself as I stepped across the lines painted on the floor for some sporting purpose.
"Sara! Will you give me a piggy back ride?" I cried, as I was already hauling myself up onto the much taller girl.
Sara signed in resignation as she allowed me to position myself and then grabbed my legs, securing me to her back in our Friday afternoon tradition.
One of the caretakers had opened the windows in the gym, allowing for a fresh spring breeze to whip through the large room.
Sara began to walk around and she knew that soon, I'd be begging her to run.
She indulgently took off at a slow jog.
"Go faster! I want to fly!" I implored a begrudging Sara.
Sara continued to go faster and faster until I was sure we'd take off the ground at any moment.
My hair was thrown behind me as I really did take off into flight.
I had never been so excited. Nothing had ever felt so right.
How had I gotten so high? Where was Sara?
I looked down in trepidation. Sara was behind me, sprawled on the floor. The floor was now rising toward me at an alarming rate.
I let out a cry of despair, just before crash landing face first into the gymnasium floor. The caretaker assigned to the gym released a string of expletives which were definitely not school friendly and yelled for another caretaker to call my mom right away.
I tried to push myself up into the sitting position and my right hand slipped in a puddle.
Why was there a puddle in the gym?
Oh...That's blood...
"Sweetie, we're going to get you some napkins and we're calling your mommy right away, okay? I think you might've broken your nose, honey," said the caretaker softly. She rubbed my back while I waited in shock until my mom got there.
When my mother arrived, there was hell to pay and those caretakers took the full brunt of it, but I didn't mind.
I was too busy remembering what it felt like to fly.
Note:
I chose to write this story because this is one of my most vivid memories from my childhood. Sara, of course, felt awful that she's fallen and I'd gotten hurt. The caretakers felt horrible because they had been screamed at by an angry tiger-mom-attorney combo. I love this story because it is honestly such a reminder of how skewed things can seem at different points in our lives. At the time of this event, I didn't care that I was injured. I just wanted to keep having fun and playing. My mom, however, at a very different stage in her life, was furious that her child had been allowed to be harmed. It really puts things in different perspectives when considering this situation from opposite sides.
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