My Shout-to-the-World Narrative Paper!

There we were, mind set and determined to accomplish anything in our paths looking down the trail. We were focusing contently on the sharp turns and possibly ragged obstacles in our paths. Me and my friends, possible death staring straight into our souls, we were afraid. That was not going to stop us; however we could see the edged engraving of where the other motorized vehicles had passed rapidly through the course dirt. We knew our path was safe as long as every turn, every wiggle, or just the slightest jolt of energy in our arms could throw us off at any moment’s notice. We had to be absolutely perfect, with every jump and cross of handlebars each bike had. We looked at each other in confusion as to who was going to go first, I wanted to, but off sped my brother and at that time we all took off like a herd of rhinos tearing and shredding through the damp dirt and mud.

Every turn made it harder and harder to see as we flung mud up at each other and raced through the course as fast, powerful, and smart as we could. Flying up in the air at least 5 feet high, and touching from rims to motors and more. Bashing against each other’s bikes and trying to maintain control over the rough terrain. The struggle to keep the handlebars straight and have the thrill of flying in the air gives such an adrenaline rush we didn’t want to stop! As soon as it all started, it all stopped…literally. I lost control completely leaned too far flipped, twisted, and turned all over the place. Me being in the back it didn’t stop anyone from landing, but as soon as they saw it, they shredded the dirt still checking to see if I was okay. Me, I’m stubborn. I’ll say I’m okay even if I’m not, tasting the musty dirt in my mouth after dragging my face on the ground and flinging my helmet clear across the other side of the track, it didn’t taste good that’s for sure. I could barely hear, or see anything at all, all I remember is the blood covering over my eyes and seeing drips of what took form of sweat running down my face.

Lifting up my head slowly I could feel people yelling to get help, and my brother pushing everyone off and asking if I was okay. I shook out the dirt of my mouth and said I was fine, but he could tell I was bluffing but by the way I looked at him he could tell I was in pain. He stood me up and I could feel the swirling of my stomach as I felt putrid and sick. Getting up was a daze, and I could feel literally every crevice of my body that got hit in the crash. My arm felt broken, but then I realized the handle brakes had been broken and cut me straight across the bottom of my elbow and went clear down to my mid forearm. Blood running everywhere, the only thing I could think about was how dad was going to kill me for messing up the bike. Like I said I’m stubborn so I lifted my leg to take a step and almost collapsed from being completely dizzy.

I had a dream; I don’t remember how it all happened so fast? When did I fall asleep? I woke up immediately thinking I left the bike there, but woke up in a bed. It was my bed actually. I was so confused, but then noticed the intense pain in my arms and legs. I could feel the soreness of my neck as I tried getting up noticing my grandpa stepping in to check on me. I could feel the hesitation as if he were imagining something of a miracle. I smiled, though the incredible pain and what felt like crippled concentrated areas from inside my body. More in my neck and shoulders it hurt than anywhere else. I felt dirty and wiped my head feeling the bandages on my upper left forehead and wondered what exactly happened. I honestly couldn’t remember a thing at that moment, until he said with a shiver “you’re awake?” I thought it was funny and tried laughing but even that hurt. Bloody me, sitting in a bed with bandages even though it wasn’t the first time I had a crash. I answered slightly trying to give him a laugh “maybe?” It worked. His bold sense of humor stuck out like yellow at a blue shirted carnival. Just then my mom walked in and hugged me, it was tight! I had to almost gasp for air, but I wasn’t going to let her think I was weak!? I held my breath and dealt with the pain no matter how bad it hurt, “recovering from this is going to suck you know?” “Yeah mom, I know.” I smiled and she smiled back kissing my forehead, I thought to myself “well heck for this kind of attention why not crash all the time?”.

Me and my crippled self now a days, and I still have a passion of being a daredevil, no matter the consequences. I’m training for the most adrenaline filled action packed lifetime a kid could ever ask for! I’m going to follow my dreams constantly and never give up on riding motor cycles of all kinds, not just dirt bikes. Skateboards, Bicycles, snowboards, quads, three-wheelers, and more! I’m crazy most people would say, but to have the thrill of knowing that most other people wouldn’t even think of doing what I do. It gives me confidence, and determination to show everyone that I’m consistent and will always follow my dreams. Of course with courage comes consequence, and my grandpa will no longer be there to support me, I will proceed with my life, not stopping for any obstacles in my path.