My First Big Break
Essay #1 (Narrative)
9 September 2008
My First Big Break
When I was nine, my family and I lived smack in the middle of St. Louis, Missouri. One day my mother dragged me and my brother to one of her drab Girl Scout Leaderâ€™s meetings. The building was located on the outskirts of downtown St. Louis. It was a breezy spring evening. I could smell freshly cut grass mixed with the harsh exhaust fumes from the nearby highway. My brother and I played outside the long one story church building; so we wouldnâ€™t disturb the gross of adults. A small McDonaldâ€™s Kidâ€™s Meal beach ball was the focus of our fun ...view middle of the document...
â€œWhat happened? Get up there and get the damn ball,â€ he quietly but sternly stated. I mustered what was left of my courage and shot up. I stretched out my arm and watched as my fingers narrowly missed the goal by less than an inch. Little did I realize I fully committed to the reach without thinking about the return trip? The next image I saw was the ground getting closer and moving faster than I desired. SLAP! All that could be heard was the unmistakable sound of my flesh making contact. A numbing sensation draped over my body after I slammed onto the unmovable force of the concrete sidewalk. I was concussed from the abrupt landing; shaking inside from the rush of adrenaline coursing through my every nerve. No thought, just awe at what occurred in that split second. Suddenly, the flavor of a metallic copper taste rushed over my pallet. A warm liquid oozed down the back of my throat. Crimson droplets trickled upon the concrete. My nose was bleeding! I attempted to plug my nose. My hand didnâ€™t reach my face? What was thisâ€¦why? In a glance, it hit me. No air, my lungs frozen in fear. I focused on the unrealistic sight of my misshapen right arm. Six inches from my elbow, my forearm was forced upward into the shape of a goose neck. Both bones snapped; collapsed under the strain of my futile attempt to catch my 100 pound body as I dropped like a brick from its perch. I was unable to look away; though I didnâ€™t want to believe what I was seeing.