Personal Narrative: Lake Of The Woods Golf

A fresh breeze blew and ruffled the grass at the Lake of the Woods golf course in Mahomet, Illinois. The leaves fell from the trees and drifted amongst the wind. As I hauled the unopened tent towards my destination, there was lots of chatter, as well as some excitement, but no one spoke of the possibility of success in the monumental task ahead. We set up the tent and waited. We were awaiting the moment that we would go to where they had specified the activity to begin, the moment where most of the team would receive the opportunity to attempt the task we had been striving forward to achieve for the last few months. Except for me, I would be required to stay there just to cheer for those who participate, unless someone became injured to the
I had always thought of them as tools, just pieces of pure muscle that exist to serve. They were always there to serve me and would try their absolute hardest to do so. Having no legs was out of the question. It wasn’t like I was participating in a fencing competition.
Sorting out my thoughts, I walked to my destination. One of my friends called out to me, “Hey Sai, you should probably go grab your running bib on, just in case.”
I thanked him and went on my way. I added the numbered bib to my cross country jersey and began to walk towards the start once again. I walked with my friend Sam, who was about to run. We commenced chatting about the race ahead. It was at that one point in time that everything slipped out of my grasp. It was in that split second that some divine being decided that I should suffer. I fell in silence. I believed it would be like in the movies, where time seems to pass slowly. But, if anything, time ran faster than a Mach 6 jet. I fell on my bottom and back. I began to sit up, and my left leg seemed to bend sideways. I struggled my way up, looked at my left ankle, and found that it had just curled into a very awkward angle, nothing even close to
Not only that, but something else seemed slightly off. I became slightly annoyed that my leg wouldn’t respond to me. After all, it was just a piece of muscle existing to serve me. I attempted to spin my ankle around in a circle. Lots of pain came into view, and it only appeared to twitch in some little circle. I looked back at Sam, and he is concerned, and not only about my injury. He was about to become absent to his upcoming race. He was necessitated to make a decision, and very quickly. Help me, and miss out on the race, or be able to compete, but in doing so leaving me there. He started to flip out, like a bull in an arena, but then came back to his senses, being his calm and relaxed