“CRACK!” Glass shatters across the kitchen floor and instantly a pool of yellow fills in the lines of the tiles. The scent of mustard consumes the room; I look down at the bright stain on my brand new cutoff jeans, and started to tear up. Rachel’s grandma gives me a lazy apology for the stain and proceeds to clean up and finish making the sandwiches for our trip to the river. We were heading to the McKenzie River for a day of white river rafting, an event I was dreading the prior 24 hours. A day meant for adventure and fun in the sun, turned into a nightmare at the blink of an eye. Spending months upon months in a hospital bed at sixteen isn’t the party I was anticipating that summer. Because of the near death experience of breaking my pelvis,
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The day before our trip, Rachel and I had met some of the neighbor boys on one of our “green” adventures. Semi-dashing with a joint in hand, and we were intrigued. The boys invited us to a get together they were having at their house the next day, immediately making Rachel and I plot on ways to get out of the trip to the river. Rachel woke up with a “fever” and I woke up with “cramps,” but her mom saw right through the plan and made the argument, “If I have to go, you both have to go.” Rachel and I complained all morning while getting ready, helping pack up her Uncle Darr’s car and make sack lunches for the trip. The “expert” white river rafter that was taking us on our mini adventure for the day was a friend from Grandma Satan’s church. Apparently Grandma had a crush on the man, making it more vital for Rachel and I to attend the trip. The man showed up with an eighteen rack of beer and six lifejackets, shoving all his essential rafting materials in the trunk of the Subaru and we were on our way. The two-hour drive felt like eternity squished in the back of the car, the soft humming of Christian music played in the background as I watched out the windows. We slowly left the streets of suburbia, and headed into nature, and a ping of excitement took over when turned onto a dusty road surrounded by Douglas firs and western red cedars. …show more content…
You could feel the river make the transition to tranquil, to mildly unsteady in a matter of seconds, getting that sinking feeling in your stomach that a roller coaster provides you. The raft expert, who I believe to be somewhat tipsy, tried his best to keep the raft calm as it drifted sideways close to the bank of the river. The water was getting rougher, and when I turned my head to see what was behind me my body became petrified with fear. Our raft was heading straight for a fallen tree in the river, and “CRACK!” I’ve heard before that before you die or have a near death experience, you see your life flash before your eyes and you have a moment of clarity and acceptance, I can now confirm this. We emerged from the other side of the tree in a panic, and I started to screech in pain. Rachel’s mom was nowhere to be found, she fell out of the raft and got carried down the river like a ragdoll. Rachel started crying out, “WHERE THE F*CK IS MY MOM?” as I try to stay coherent, nauseous from pain. We pulled off to the side of the river, where Grandma Satan ordered me to get up, shouting at me “You’re fine! Nothing’s broken!” To which I immediately rebutted, “SOMETHING IS WRONG! I’M F*CKING BROKEN!” this screaming match between us two went on for about five minutes until Rachel’s mom appeared,
The day before our trip, Rachel and I had met some of the neighbor boys on one of our “green” adventures. Semi-dashing with a joint in hand, and we were intrigued. The boys invited us to a get together they were having at their house the next day, immediately making Rachel and I plot on ways to get out of the trip to the river. Rachel woke up with a “fever” and I woke up with “cramps,” but her mom saw right through the plan and made the argument, “If I have to go, you both have to go.” Rachel and I complained all morning while getting ready, helping pack up her Uncle Darr’s car and make sack lunches for the trip. The “expert” white river rafter that was taking us on our mini adventure for the day was a friend from Grandma Satan’s church. Apparently Grandma had a crush on the man, making it more vital for Rachel and I to attend the trip. The man showed up with an eighteen rack of beer and six lifejackets, shoving all his essential rafting materials in the trunk of the Subaru and we were on our way. The two-hour drive felt like eternity squished in the back of the car, the soft humming of Christian music played in the background as I watched out the windows. We slowly left the streets of suburbia, and headed into nature, and a ping of excitement took over when turned onto a dusty road surrounded by Douglas firs and western red cedars. …show more content…
You could feel the river make the transition to tranquil, to mildly unsteady in a matter of seconds, getting that sinking feeling in your stomach that a roller coaster provides you. The raft expert, who I believe to be somewhat tipsy, tried his best to keep the raft calm as it drifted sideways close to the bank of the river. The water was getting rougher, and when I turned my head to see what was behind me my body became petrified with fear. Our raft was heading straight for a fallen tree in the river, and “CRACK!” I’ve heard before that before you die or have a near death experience, you see your life flash before your eyes and you have a moment of clarity and acceptance, I can now confirm this. We emerged from the other side of the tree in a panic, and I started to screech in pain. Rachel’s mom was nowhere to be found, she fell out of the raft and got carried down the river like a ragdoll. Rachel started crying out, “WHERE THE F*CK IS MY MOM?” as I try to stay coherent, nauseous from pain. We pulled off to the side of the river, where Grandma Satan ordered me to get up, shouting at me “You’re fine! Nothing’s broken!” To which I immediately rebutted, “SOMETHING IS WRONG! I’M F*CKING BROKEN!” this screaming match between us two went on for about five minutes until Rachel’s mom appeared,