Personal Narrative Essay: Pain On The Playground

988 Words 4 Pages
Register to read the introduction… In a fit of rage, one of the participants elected to kick the basketball over a fifteen foot high fence and onto the roof of a neighboring house. As the ball landed on the roof, the question arose in everybody’s mind, “Who is going to climb that fence and retrieve the ball?” As I stood there, giggling and chuckling, trying to contain every bit of it, I was noticed by the individual who executed the kick. “Hey big mouth, get up …show more content…
As I got to the top, the difficult part awaited me. Somehow, I had to make it from the top of the fence to the top of the roof. I placed my left foot over the fence, quickly following with my right. As I looked fifteen feet downward, to the large group of individuals, I noticed that all had been watching my every move. I became delighted that I was finally the main attraction, and without contemplating my next move, lost my footing and fell fourteen or so feet to the ground. I had become sandwiched in between the house and the fence, but to my surprise, I did not notice a scratch or a bruise. From the other side of the fence I could hear the young man ask, “Are you alright, kid?” Without hesitation I answered, “Yeah man, I’m good.”It was at that moment that I realized I was not …show more content…
I was covered in blood. I noticed that I had ripped the skin straight off of my wrist. Looking back up at the top of the fence, to my dismay, I observed there the skin from my wrist. My basic instinct was to run to wherever I could run. I ran around the building and into a dentist’s office, which was located directly next to the playground. I walked in at top speed and headed straight for the receptionist. From afar she noticed me and at the top of her lungs shrieked, “Get off of the carpeting, it’s brand new!”

I then ran back outside, awaiting further assistance. After she had laid down a trail of newspaper, the receptionist called me back in and accompanied me to a sink where she would rinse the blood off of my badly sliced wrist. As my red, young blood flowed down the sink, and the tears trickled down my face, I realized that this was the first actual test of pain that I had dealt with as a child. At least for the moment, I wasn’t such a bad

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