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.