Tag Archives: Writing 101 – Recreate a Single Day

HOPPING FOR MY LIFE

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Writing 101 – Recreate a Single Daycropped-seal_v2-03

We are to write about what happens in a single day (or hour). It can be fiction, non-fiction, memoir, or whatever you want. This is mine…and it is a true story.

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HOPPING FOR MY LIFE

I’ve always been uncoordinated and a bit of a klutz. This day was no exception.

It was in the summertime, and the family was out in the back yard. My dad was doing yard work, and my mom had walked with my aunt to the front yard. My aunt was going home, but they’d stopped to chat a bit longer out by her car.

My sister and I were playing still, in the back. I don’t remember how old I was, but probably before I was 10 years old. We had a couple of pretty white ducks that roamed around the grass, eating weeds, and bugs, and whatever else ducks do. They had a little shed for their shelter, in a corner of the yard. They had both gone in there, because I imagine I was chasing them around to catch one.

I remember crawling on hands and knees, in the patchy grass/dirt there by the little shed. I was reaching in to try and get one of the ducks, when I felt something painful on the top of my foot…the part that was touching the ground. I didn’t think much of it, but then I looked down. There was blood everywhere, and it was actually squirting up in the air, pulsing with each of my heartbeats. I must have cut an artery. (I checked…there is an artery running across the top of your foot)

I started screaming, but I don’t remember it hurting at all. Just the sight of all that blood was freaking me out. I wanted my mama, and I knew she was out in the front yard, so I began hopping…hopping on the ‘good’ foot…all the way through the house, and out the front door, screaming and bleeding all the way. I’m sure my dad was right behind me, but I wasn’t stopping.

Somehow, they took me back inside, put me in the bath tub, and wrapped a towel around my foot to stop the bleeding. I do remember the walls being splattered, again and again, with the pulses, and it dripping down. Next, I remember being in the car, sitting in mom’s lap, and dad was driving really fast to the emergency room at the hospital. I don’t know why they decided to take me in the car, instead of calling an ambulance. Maybe because we lived a ways out, and they thought it would be quicker.

Next, I remember sitting up on the examining table at the hospital. The doctor was stitching me up. He’d put some kind of numbing solution on the cut, so I didn’t feel it hurting, just a funny sensation of the thread, or whatever he used, going through my skin, as I watched.

That is all I remember of that hour or so in the day. I still have the scar…and, my life.

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