by Sanziana

Itall started in a sunny November morning. I had a sleepover at my best friend’s house and, naturally, after going to sleep pretty late we woke up at almost 11 in the morning. My day begun pretty well, except I had no idea it would turn into the worst day of my life.

      First thing I did when I left the comfort and warmth of the bed was to check myself in the mirror and I could not help but to notice the huge eyebags I had after an almost sleepless night. My eyes were droopy and red, and not to mention surrounded by a dark purple-grey, definitely from the lack of rest I had gotten. My hair was ravished and my face was paler than usual. As tired as we were, Lila and I decided we should probably eat something to give our cheeks some of their colour back. We ascended down the stairs and entered the kitchen looking for some food and that is the moment it first happened. The previous night I was trying to avoid this, falling down the stairs, but this time it was impossible. It wasn’t the way it usually happened, step wrong and twist my ankle. This time I could not avoid it. It was like someone pushed me. I was just simply pushed forward. We got a few scratches that drew a little blood, but Lila and I tried to look past it. We laughed it off and went on with what we were doing, except happened again a few minutes later. I was walking around the house, not even on the stairs when I fell the second time. It just kept going on. I fell again and again on my way home, probably around 9 times. And the worst happened exactly as I got home. While walking up the stairs to my room, I tripped again. And this time it was different. I did in fact break my leg. Thankfully, my parents were home and they rushed me to the hospital where I could get treatment. I had to wear a cast for around one month, but I was lucky enough to be able to choose my own colour for it.

     It is safe to say that since then I have avoided going up or down the stairs. I must admit that this was in fact the worst day of my life.

by Athena

3 years ago, my grandfather from my dads side passed away from heart attack. That was on 12 april 2019. 2 days before my brothers birthday. Back then I was on sixth grade.

     I remember coming back from school excited to see my dad and tell him about how well I did at some test. After classes I always go to my grandparents to eat lunch because they stay in the apartament next to ours so it’s easy. I entered my grandmas kitcken and saw her standing at the table with my dad and my aunt. My grandpa was in hospital for two or three days but I wasn’t worried something could happen. I saw a candle on the table and a thought about him went through my head so I asked how was he doing and when is he coming home. My grandma said: ”Your dad will explain everything to you” then he took me outside and told me he passed away that morning at the hospital. I fell on my knees. I was in shock. I just couldn’t believe it. After a few minutes, I realized that it wasn’t a dream, everything was real and he was gone, I started crying my eyes out. I screamed out of anger then buried my face in my dads chest. After I calmed down a little, me and my dad took a walk in the garden, cried together and talked about what a great man my grandpa was and how much we will miss him. That was the worst day of my life.

by Tudor

The worst day of my life was 6 years ago in the 3rd grade. For a random reason, two of my classmates got into a fight and I tried to separate them, but that was the biggest mistake possible, a mistake that would cost me my ability to protect myself. One of them took my right pointing finger and then rotated it 180 degrees, only to pull it down to finish me. I called my mother in a hurry, just to get me to the hospital as soon as possible because I couldn’t move my hand. The doctor and the nurses seemed disinterested about my condition, which made everything worse. When they fitted my orthotic, they forced my finger away from the rest of my hand. After many more attempts and a few surgeries, I ended up losing my ability to use my fist, having a finger phalange rotated 180 degrees.

by Sofia

On that day, I woke up and realized my alarm for school didn’t ring. When I wanted to get up, I put my feet down and I touched something that felt gross. It was my dog’s pee.

Going to the bathroom, in a rush, I walked into the door and I banged my head. To feel better, I considered washing my face with cold water, but when I threw water at it, I scalded my face. I screamed because it was awful, and my dad said to me that the cold water was stopped for a pipe reparation.

Thinking that it could not get any better, I went to the kitchen with the hope that nothing worse could happen. In my trying to open the fridge, I banged my head again on the fridge’s door. I decided just to go to school faster, but when I stepped out of the house, I slipped on a banana peel and I hurt myself again.

And when I was imagining that nothing could be worse, after a long list of terrible events, I realized I didn’t have school that day.

Essay by Alexandra

It was a sunny Friday when me and my parents went to the park, as we always did in the evenings. I was about 5 years old, so I started playing with some other kids at the playground.

After a few hours, the other children began jumping off the benches in that park. I was terrified, but after looking at them for 10 minutes, I overcame my fear and joined them. I believe I took the wrong step after a few jumps. I tripped and hit a snag. I began to feel dizzy. After a few seconds, I noticed blood dripping down my face, and I realized I had scratched my cheek and knees, grazed my chin, and my lip was split open. That wasn’t even the worst of it. I was also unable to move my arm as it was hurting extremely badly. When my mom saw me, we rushed to the hospital. When we got there, the emergency room was already full, so we had to wait for a few hours. The corridor was full of hurt children, and I still remember the kid next to me with black short hair who had a tick in his back. Meanwhile, the bleeding stopped. When we got to the doctor’s office, an old man with bushy eyebrows, wrinkles, a wide forehead, and bags under his eyes examined my arm and put it in a plaster.

We went home after about 6 hours, and we came back after 3 months to remove the plaster. It was extremely hurtful and, as the worst day of my life, I don’t want to have a similar experience ever again.