mY sHoRt StOrY

A Bike Ride Gone Wrong – fiction

I stamped my foot in annoyance, but tried to keep as optimistic as I could. Ten minutes had past since my dance class had finished, and my maid was five minutes late for my pickup. I guess I had sounded a little spoilt, and conceited, but this was a regular routine. Every Thursday, I would wait, looking down the street, and if I saw any random bicycle passing by, I would get my hopes up, and then they would die down, and more frustration would take over my optimistic side. My dance teacher had insisted on putting my class in the most ridiculous costumes imagined, and so I definitely wasn’t in the best mood right now. Suddenly, a blue bike sped toward me… and stopped right in front.

“Ahhh…” I breathed out. “Finally.”

My maid had the most apologetic expression on her face, and for that, I did feel a little regretful of my untactful words.

“It’s okay,” I forced a smile on my face. “But, can you go fast? Please?”

My maid nodded, and holding my dance shoes in my hand tightly, I mounted myself on the backseat of the bicycle.

The problem with my maid’s bike was that on the back seat, there wasn’t any place to place your feet. As my maid speed-pedaled towards my warm, inviting house, I swung my feet innocently, and freely. That was the biggest mistake I ever made.

Suddenly, I felt a crunching feeling near my ankle, and my foot seemed to go around, and around.

“STOP!” I screamed, aware of the thing that was happening. “STOP! PLEASE!”

My maid halted the bike, and whirled around to see what was wrong. Her face color slowly changed as soon as she saw what had happened.

“OW!!” I shrieked. “OW! OW! OW!”

But as soon as I got a look of my own ankle, I felt nauseous, and felt like vomiting up my lunch.

My ankle was gushing blood from a small wound, and it was twisted, and planted in the bicycle wheel.

Shock came first, and then pain. But I guess I hadn’t realized the pain, because I felt as though I were trapped inside a thick layer of glass, but I was clawing, and trying to break the imaginary wall which was blocking me from the real world. But, soon the pain came. At first it felt like nothing, just numbness. But then, horrifying, unimaginable pain started crawling like a snake, up my leg, and to my body.

“AAAAAHHHHH!!” I screamed. I had never delt with pain like this. It was excruciating and it felt as though it would never, ever end.

“GET MY LEG OUT! GET IT OUT OF THE WHEEL! PLEASE!” Screaming, with my voice full of bitterness and pain, I closed my eyes so I couldn’t see the horrible sight.

My maid panicked, and tried to pry my foot loose. That only sent more pain waves up my leg, and didn’t make any progress. Pretty soon, a truck driver came, parked his car behind us, and knelt down to help.

“What has happened?” A female voice asked. I opened my eyes to see who had spoken, and I saw Mrs. Chadwick, an old family friend of ours. With her help, my foot got loose, and we started for hospital in our compound.

“Can you limp?” Mrs. Chadwick asked. I nodded yes. But, as we made our way, I found myself stopping every few seconds, because of the exhaustion of hopping on one leg, and because if I even moved my ankle the slightest bit, there would be pain to come.

Meanwhile, my maid was calling my mother frantically, and was talking so fast even I only caught words like ‘Broken, bicycle, hospital.’ Pretty soon, we reached our destination, and I got rushed to the emergency room.

“Well, it seems that her ankle bone is broken. This is a very small hospital, and she should be moved to the larger one downtown. Is her mother coming?” The doctor asked.

My mother arrived in five minutes, and immediately, I was hurried to the hospital downtown.

After two hourse of x-raying, and finally putting a cast on, I was allowed to go home. It seemed that my ankle bone was really broken, and I had to have my cast on for six weeks.

At first, I loved having my cast on. Everybody gave me attention, and argued over who would push my wheelchair. But, after a while, my armpits became sore from the use of my crutches, and I longed to join my friends in playing and tromping around in the playground.

My leg did heal after a long time, but in the meanwhile, I always vowed that I would never ride my maid’s bicycle again, as long as I lived.

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