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Ouch.
Ouch.
I started down the hill, feeling like I was going 40 miles per hour, when it was probably around 8-10. I hit the bottom gathering the courage to stand on the pedals, the wind now pushing my hair back behind my ears. I bent down getting ready to hit the jump, but felt a sudden tug on my right leg. I looked back and saw my foot dragging on the ground and the crank resting against my leg. I felt myself leaning to the right and knowing what was going to happen I pushed the bike away from me.
I hit the ground hard. Landing on my face, and catching the rest of my body with my right knee. I lie on the ground for a few seconds, the shock keeping me down. Realizing the pain, I get up and walk it off like after rolling my ankle during a basketball game. Back down to the bike, I pick it up and start riding back through the desert towards home. Being careful the whole way not to look at what happened, fearing it might make it worse.
Back at my house I pull off my shorts and see the enormous blood stain covering the bottom of them. Not meaning to, I look at my leg and see the deep gashes in my knee, my head not looking so good either. Of course at once pain flushes my body, but I don?t give in and rush to the cabinet for the first-aid kit. After I finish putting the Polysporin, my dad walks out and sees me. He says, ? Ate it pretty hard, huh?? and I think, this may sting for a couple days.
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