Summer of 2013 was important to me. My neighbor's father owned three border collies, which all needed to be let out of the house to go to the bathroom. I volunteered to let them out to prove to my parents that I would be able to take care of a pet. "All right, let's go!" My Mom opened the door, waiting for me to exit first. "Mom! I can go by myself!" I snapped. "But Lauren wants to go too." She gestured towards my sister, who was coming down the stairs. "I don't care! I can take care of myself now." I snapped angrily. "I'm not a little kid anymore!" I walked outside, huffing. I snatched my bike (which was a dark shade of green) out of my garage and glared back to see if they had decided to come with me or not because of my fiery outburst. Sure enough, my Mom
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Their driveway is 100% gravel, so I hopped off of my bike and wheeled it up. I lay it down on the ground, and removed the jangling key from my wrist as I began walking up the driveway. I slid it into the lock and turned it, releasing a herd of hyperactive border collies. I was still mad at my Mom, so when she strolled up the driveway, I wheeled my bike over to the side of the rode, waiting for Lauren to play with the dogs and for them to do their business. I sat down on the mountain bike (which I had just gotten a couple months ago), my feet barely brushing the ground, for my bike seat was way too tall for me. All of a sudden, it wobbled. Instinct took over my senses and tried topush myself back up again, but that just made it worse. The bike ended up falling on top of me and my right hand. This so far in my life is one of the worst pains I had ever felt. It was like jamming your finger, combined with burning it and crushing it at the same time. I stared groaned and attempted to pull the bike off of my hand, which was sucessful. The fingers that it had landed on were burning, hurting worse as time
Their driveway is 100% gravel, so I hopped off of my bike and wheeled it up. I lay it down on the ground, and removed the jangling key from my wrist as I began walking up the driveway. I slid it into the lock and turned it, releasing a herd of hyperactive border collies. I was still mad at my Mom, so when she strolled up the driveway, I wheeled my bike over to the side of the rode, waiting for Lauren to play with the dogs and for them to do their business. I sat down on the mountain bike (which I had just gotten a couple months ago), my feet barely brushing the ground, for my bike seat was way too tall for me. All of a sudden, it wobbled. Instinct took over my senses and tried topush myself back up again, but that just made it worse. The bike ended up falling on top of me and my right hand. This so far in my life is one of the worst pains I had ever felt. It was like jamming your finger, combined with burning it and crushing it at the same time. I stared groaned and attempted to pull the bike off of my hand, which was sucessful. The fingers that it had landed on were burning, hurting worse as time