Memoir- Madison G.

Madison Ganim

Mr. Jockers

ILA Period 1

February 10, 2017


Flying Forward

“Wanna race?” I dared. We were close to her house, so it wouldn’t take very much energy. I’m not sure why, but everything I do always has to be a competition.

“No Maddie, I’m not racing with you. That’s so stupid.” Camryn responded glancing at me over her shoulder.

“Okay,” I said, holding  out the the last few letters, letting her know I didn’t care. “Whatever you say.” (I was about to race her anyways.) I pushed down hard on the bike petals to try and get in front of her. Turning the corner, peddling as fast as I could, my right foot missed the petal and slid right under the front tire. I flew way off the bike, landing hard on my knee and hand.  It felt like someone burnt the skin on my knee and hand with a hot iron and then peeled the skin off. It was only a scrape though.

Camryn hopped off her bike, dropping it in the road and ran over to me. “Oh my god!” She yelled, though it barely came out she was laughing so hard. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA o-hoh my god. Are you okay?” She crouched on the ground, still laughing (harder than before), extending her arm. I started laughing too.

“I’m an idiot, but I’m fine.” I stated proudly through my laugh.

“Yeah. I know.” She responded.

“Wait…” I began to look around frantically. “Where’d my phone go?” I rammed my hands into my pockets. No phone. I looked up. . There was my blue iphone 5c, laying face down on the ground. I hopped up as quick as I could and ran over to it. I picked it up, expecting it to be shattered and surprised when there wasn’t even a scratch. I slid my phone into my back pocket and limped slowly toward my bike. I started to think I was being overdramatic, so I sucked up the pain and began to walk normally again. At first, I thought I could ride the bike normally back to her house. I ended up keeping my feet on the ground the whole time.

Leaving the bike outside leaning up against the wall of her house, I slowly cret through the back door, trying my best not to make any noise so that the dogs wouldn’t get up. They tumbled down the stairs anyways. I tossed my black, Old Navy flip flops on the ground, letting my feet touch the cool white speckled tile placed on the floor below me. I grabbed onto the firm dark brown wood railing and pulled myself up the matching stairs, Camryn following right behind me. At the top of the stairs, I turn to my left, walking towards the brown leather couch; smooth but textured. In the corner, Tanja was sitting with Kaija – Camryn’s little sister. “Hey Tanja,” I said quiety, trying not to disturb the content baby sitting on her lap. “Do you, by any chance, know how to unbend the handlebars of a bike?” An awkward smile sat on my face, my hands just below my chin, elbows sitting on the top of the couch, and my back bent. I was hiding my scrapes. I knew she would’ve told me I was an idiot for riding with flip flops.  I ended up showing her. Camryn and Tanja wrapped me up a little too much. By 6, I had taken off the bandage and tape Camryn put on. We had shepard’s pie for dinner, which we almost always end-up having everytime I come over. All of those layers were baked to perfection. I couldn’t really use my thumb on my left hand, it hurt the scrape too much.
Later that night, laying in bed with a sleeping Camryn, I pressed my thumb on the newly formed scab sitting in the middle of my palm on my left hand. I gritted my teeth, feeling the pain of my idiocy. I chuckled to myself quietly, trying my hardest not to wake Camryn. It wasn’t until that moment where I realized every little thing that I do always has to be a competition.

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