#3 Narrative Essay

    Dr. Jumping Jacks

    The wind rushed through my hair, as the ‘rock-zone’ approached. I thought that I could handle it, I had done it a gazillion times before. I rode, watching as each shaped rock, the neighbors pine trees blurring together to make an ugly color. I avoided my first pothole, then I hit the ‘rock-zone’. Putting on my confident face I didn’t slow down, thinking that I could make it. I didn’t know how wrong I was.

My eyes popped open. It was the first day of a school-free, homework-free week. The glorious, freedom scented spring break! I have longed for this week ever since Christmas Break. I jumped out of bed and threw on some summer clothes, pulled my hair up, and rushed to the kitchen.

“Good morning,” my mom said in her usual voice. “What are you going to do today?”

“I want to try out my new ripstick.” I had gotten it for Christmas but, because of all the gosh-dang snow piled up like mountains in my driveway, I couldn’t ride it.

“Alright but get some breakfast and some shoes on before you go, and stay close!” Ugh, moms and their ‘stay close’ and ‘come back here’ and ‘eat your vegetables’. I gulped down my breakfast faster than lightning could strike, and ran outside. Of course I didn’t put any shoes on. I looked around the garage for a couple of seconds, then found it. The deep, slightly faded red with shoe marks all over it. I’ll clean it later. I hopped on to go around my four-house block a couple times before lunch. I rode around one corner, feeling the warm sun on my cold cheeks. I rounded the next corner, the rock-zone approaching. I usually slowed down to be on the safe side, but I was feeling very reckless. The rocks whipped under my feet like fish down a stream. I was looking around, taking the quiet neighborhood’s detail in. The houses were all one story with cars all in the garage, their yellow grass and the green splotches trying to overcome the yellow. The leaves had just started to grow back, more green and more fresh than last year. I looked back on the sidewalk, getting ready to turn the tight corner.

Suddenly, I felt that something was wrong with my wheel. I looked down to see nothing, so I continued, oh, what a mistake! Then my wheel stopped, throwing me onto the cold, grey sidewalk. I laughed it off and got up. I was about to get back on when pain jolted through my foot. I slowly looked down expecting to see my big toe stuck on the ripstick, but it was just bleeding. I started to freak out because it was more than just scrape. It was gushing out blood like a fire hydrant squirts out water. I picked up my ripstick and hurled it onto the grass. I started to cry as I ran to my house, cutting through my neighbor’s yard. I’ve known them my whole life so I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if they found blood on their grass.

I burst into my house. My sister-devils were up and were eating breakfast. My mom looked at the river streaming down my face.

“What the heck happened?” She said, examining my toe. I told her what happened as she made faces at the blood. I expected her to puke at any moment. “Well, go get some shoes on. Brook,” she turned to my sister, “make sure she gets them on this time.”

5 minutes later, I found myself in the reception area of the doctors office. Well this is gonna be a waste of time and money. I thought, if dad were here he would just put a band-aid on it and say, “You're fine.” I watched the T.V. that they had, thinking about what I would do after this.

“Abbie?” the nurse called. I stood up and limped over to her. “Follow me.” I followed her into the maze they called a doctor’s office. Finally she opened one of the doors, “A doctor will be in in a minute.” The office smelled of Lysol and looked like a serial killer’s heaven, with all the pointy things and cotton balls.

I hopped onto the chair, the plastic stuff wrinkling under my weight. I was glaring at my toe when the doctor came in. He was probably in his mid-forties, a little(okay a lot) overweight, and was almost bald. He looked at my toe and said, “Let me guess, you were not wearing good shoes?” I laughed. He has a name that started with a ‘j’, but I can’t remember it. It was like Jumping Jacks or Jasmine or something. As he stitched me up, I told him what happened.

“Well wear better shoes than these thin sandals next time!” He joked.

“I wasn’t wearing any shoes.” I replied. He looked at me like I had just lost a million dollars.

“Well that would explain a ton.”

He kept making me laugh with he was doing the stitched on my toe, I almost peed my pants. When he was done I looked at my toe. It had six stitches and it reminded me of a broken teddy bear, except the stuffing was blood.

“She also needs a tetanus shot for 7th grade.” I glared at my mom for suggesting it. I hated shots more than I hated those rocks. Dr. Juggle nodded and brought out the shot. The needle was like death in a small cylinder. He lifted up my sleeve and stabbed the needle into my arm. I pretty sure China could hear my scream.

“There, you are good to go. Be back on Monday to take the stitches out. Wear better shoes!” Dr. Jfar called after me.

A week later, I got my stitches out. Was the toe better? Yes. Was the ripstick fine? Yes. Was there blood on the grass? A little. Do I wear shoes everywhere I go? NO! I am so against shoes, I hate them more than shots.