My memories are scattered and the sound isn’t playing. The slideshow of each teacher’s reaction plays in my mind, my hand placed at the bottom of my cheek to keep the blood from dripping onto the freshly cleaned floors. I had gotten to the nurse, she looked at me and her eyes enlarge almost like they were going to pop out, she frantically sat me down telling me not to look in the mirror beside me. Rushing to the back to get bandages and ice. At the time I didn’t understand why everyone was freaking out, I didn’t feel anything, and I wasn’t scared. The mirror next to me tempted me more and more each second, I looked over to see…

15 minutes before: In the back of my elementary school there was a large blacktop where all the kids played, on either side, there was grass strips. At that time anyone who was anyone was practicing for the lip-sync challenge. Groups of four to two were practicing their dances on the grass, and I was doing the same. I was in a group with my than-best friend, 8-year-olds at the time would do any kind of acrobatic tricks to keep those at the top of the food chain at bay. Kids did handstands and cartwheels and added them to their dances. The sun beamed down on us making the blacktop hot to the touch. Forcing those who were practicing on the blacktop to move to the grass, naturally, it started to crowd. My friend pointed out there was a shady side of blacktop that no one was using, that part of the blacktop was shaded by a giant oak tree, that you couldn’t help but adore. At the time handstands on concrete seemed like a brilliant idea.

My friend could do a handstand perfectly, holding it much longer than I could. The thought of holding my handstand drove me forward, pushing me to do it over and over again. I reached to the sky and went forward, my hands touching the cool, rough concrete, and my feet went up in the air. I felt the breeze hit my legs. I thought to my self “this is the longest I’ve ever held it, I can’t fall!” I called out to my friend asking her to spot me. Thinking she stood right behind me. It felt like I had wings and I could reach the heavens but in a split second my wings disappeared and I fell. My arms let out. My memories are blank, I get glimpses of my actions after my fall. Going up to the “nice teacher” in my grade and her eyes widened. She rushed me to the door telling me “Go straight to the nurse”. I ran up the stairs, blank, running past my old classrooms, blank, my heavy breathe knocking on the nurse’s door. 

I looked over to see a hole on the right side of my face. It didn’t hurt, and there wasn’t much blood. The scrap went almost all the way up to my hairline. It was wide, from the bone by my eye to the scraps by my ear. After seeing what my face looked like I calmed down, I felt the weight lift from off my chest. And while everyone else was consumed by the chaos, I was calm. 

The next six months after changed me, the fall gave me a severe concussion. I couldn’t play or dance, I was distanced from all of my friends. I felt alone, and I was frustrated. The things I loved doing were taken from me, everything that entertained me was restricted. My mom and grandmother tried so hard to make me feel better and support me. The chaos that once filled my day became a dull silence and my calm turned into a wild sea storm.