The Time I crashed My Bike BY Miller S.

Swoosh. Swoosh. Swoosh. Swoosh. “ I think our base should be at your house,” I said

“Why?” replied Jackie

“Because your house has better places we could use as a base.” I said back to Jackie.

We were swinging on the swings at a park about a block from Esther’s house. We were playing a spy game with my sister Hadley and her friend Esther.

We got on our bikes and started pedaling towards Jackie’s house . We were going to the shed in Jackie’s backyard. We were going down this small hill and pleading so fast and hard. Every time I pleaded I was going faster and faster. When we got to Jackie’s house we walked our bikes into her backyard, and started talking to each other behind the shed.

We were talking about how to spy on Hadley and Esther without them really noticing us. We decided to go hunt Hadley and Esther down. Jackie and I followed Hadley and Esther to Esther’s house. We looked and looked and looked. We couldn’t find them so after about 10 minutes of searching for them we gave up. Jackie and I rode our bikes back to her house. On the way back we were riding so fast down the small hill. I was pedaling faster and faster every time I pumped my legs. When we were almost to Jackie’s house I had managed to almost run into the curb.

But, I managed to get away like a slithery snake getting away from its predator. I was wearing a red athletic bag on my back that had a camera, an old phone that didn’t work, and a little kids’ play laptop.

As I was riding my bike behind Jackie, my bag caught on something. It took a split second for me to look over, my bag got caught on somebody’s mailbox. It was just a few seconds before the mailbox went down to the ground like a person who had just been shot. The mailbox skidded across the road, and I fell to my right side. As I went down my bike moved in front of me a bit, and my hit the ground and moved just a little bit like my bike had.

Jackie stopped in her tracks. I got up and put the mail in the mailbox because it had skidded across the road too. I laid the mailbox down where it once stood like a statue. All I was concerned about was the mailbox and how the woman whose mailbox belonged to would react, because I had run into Mrs. Grow’s mailbox.

Jackie was concerned about me, and said “ It’s fine, Marianne will not be mad.” to lift my spirits.

I walked back to Jackie’s house, Jackie lives in the house next to Mrs.Grow so I only had to walk a few yards. Once we got to Jackie’s house, she had me sit down in an orange lounge chair that was in her garage. She went inside to go get her mom. A couple of minutes later Jackie and her mom came out with wet paper towels, dry paper towels, and a first aid kit. I had managed to cut and scrape my right knee pretty bad, only slightly scrape my left knee, and I was bleeding from under my left pinkie nail and my other fingers were cut and bruised.

My left hand was shaking so bad it looked like my hand was a butterfly. My right leg hurt felt like it was on fire. The event kept playing over and over and over in my head like a movie. I couldn’t get it out of my head. Once we cleaned my leg up, we put a few bandages on. Jackie walked me back to my house.

When we got there Hadley, Esther, and my mom were there. I retold the story to them while I was sitting at the kitchen table. We went back outside and sat down on the stoop. I felt helpless because my leg still felt like it was on fire and even putting ice on it wouldn’t help. After 10 minutes of sitting on the stoop I reluctantly got on my bike, and started slowly biking with Jackie. It must have been not even 15 minutes before we stopped biking. I thanked Jackie for playing with me and helping me. Later somebody called my house.

It was Mrs. Grow calling to see if I was ok and to tell me she wanted to talk to me. My dad and I walked over to the Grow’s house after we listened to the message on our answering machine.

We rang the doorbell and Mrs. Grow and her husband came out. After a few minutes of talking I learned that she wasn’t mad at me at all! She and her husband were more concerned about me than the mailbox. They said “ It’s ok that you took the mailbox down it was about 20 years old anyway. We are just concerned about you”

They ended up asking how I was doing and what happened. I said “ I’m fine, but my leg and hand still hurts. I was on my bike going down the hill, and I almost run ran into the curb but got away, and as I came by your mailbox my bag caught it and I took the mailbox down.”

We all laughed. My dad said that he would help Mr. Grow put a new mailbox up.

My dad and I said goodbye to the Grow’s and walked home. When I went to bed that night my leg still felt as if it was on fire. But, the pain had died down a bit, and I had thought to myself, “ Man I can’t go running people’s mailboxes over again, that was too scary. I’m so lucky nothing worse happened to me. But everything will turn out fine.” I was still scared to the bone and every time I even thought about what happened it sent a chill up my spine. But being in the comfort of my big, soft bed made me feel just that much better.

Works Cited

A Bicycle. Digital image. Web. 1 Feb. 2017. <>.

A Camera. Digital image. Web. 1 Feb. 2017. <>.

A Drawstring Bag. Digital image. Web. 1 Feb. 2017. <>.

A Flip Phone. Digital image. Web. 1 Feb. 2017. <>.

Hilly Road. Digital image. Web. 1 Feb. 2017. <>.

A House. Digital image. Web. 1 Feb. 2017. <>.

A Mailbox. Digital image. Web. 1 Feb. 2017. <>.

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