Friday, February 22nd, 2013
Love Thy Stealing Neighbor
Can you imagine your bicycle suddenly disappearing when you leave it out in front of your house for just a few minutes? Bicycles are convenient, and when I was young I was in that era where they were the most popular vehicles. If you brought your bicycle to school you automatically became the “coolest” kid in school. No matter how the bicycle was. It could’ve been old, new, expensive, pink, or had bright gold lightning bolts printed on the bars—you were still part of the “cool” kids squad. I remember reading that approximately one billion people in the world own a bicycle, that’s a lot considering that there is an estimated population of slightly over seven billion people on Earth. I was part of that one billion people in the world who owned a bicycle until my neighbor stole my bicycle. Now only 999,999,999 people own a bicycle—drastic change isn’t it, just because my neighbor decided to steal my precious bike.
I’ve had many bicycles in the past but none of them were like the one I had when I was only nine years old. It wasn’t luxurious or anything, just an old secondhand bicycle, but when I rode it I felt remarkable! It was spray painted with a dark metallic blue that shined in the night sky during late night rides. The bicycle handles had this bright yellow rubber star covers that contained bits of black, which would explain that it was old. The seat was just flawless, it was easy to get on and get off—it was snug and made me feel really high up from the ground. That bicycle I had was fantastic it really made me feel like a queen when I sat on it—but not even Queen Elizabeth could’ve possibly had the amazing bike I had.
It was during perhaps early June when I was roughly nine years old, when my bicycle disappeared from my eyes. It was a hot summer day and I had just came home to grab a quick dinner after playing in the park with a couple friends. I recall there was a track where my friends and I would race each other on bicycles—I always came in first! So I reached my house to grab dinner and later my friends and I would return back to the park so I just left my bicycle out in the front of the house, leaning against my garage door. When I usually leave it out in the front my parents would always yell at me saying “one day someone’s going to steal your bicycle” and forced me to lock it up in the backyard—but I figured I was only going in for a couple minutes, nobody would steal it. I quickly gobbled down my dinner. As I finished and was about to head out the door I heard my favorite show’s theme song—who lives in a pineapple under the sea? SpongeBob Squarepants! My sister was watching SpongeBob Squarepants in the living room with the volume really loud, how could I possibly refuse to watch my favorite show? So I threw my sneakers off and ran into the living room. A few minutes later my friend had called asking if we were still going back but she said that she was tired and that we will go back tomorrow. I was in full SpongeBob Sqaurepants zombie mode so all I was saying was “uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, okay bye.” As soon as the show finished I recalled I had left my bicycle out and in a few minutes my father would return from work and see it out there. I ran out to bring it to the backyard but as I walked up to the front of my garage it was gone!
At that moment I had no idea what to do. I ran into my backyard to check if it was there because maybe my mother took it back for me—but no it wasn’t there. I knew someone stole my bicycle now, I thought maybe they couldn’t have gotten far. I had a one of a kind bicycle so it would be easy to find. So I ran towards the park to see if anyone was riding it and if anyone had it some little kid fights were going to go down—it wasn’t in the park either. I had to face the fact that it was gone—gone forever. I walked back from the park and all I could think...