Lookout Lake-Personal Narrative

I remember when I was young and I had to decide what color of popsicle I wanted and it seemed like it would be the hardest decision I’d have to make. These type of decisions get easier as I became older, but I remember when I was young and had to make a pretty fast and life saving decision. My childhood best friend Ethan and I thought it was the perfect day to go out for a cooling dip at Lookout Lake. We got on our Bermuda trunks and raced out of my beat down, old, white ranch house, all the way across our small town to the docks. The best place to hang out was at our hometown lake; the cooling freshness of the water and how the trees slightly glossed over us as we swam kept us from the blazing sun. The beautiful oranges and blues of the
“Haha, funny you think I want to go outside and walk. Nah, I’ll pass” I chuckled back.
“Suit yourself,” He said as he swung his army green backpack over his shoulder and walked out of my bedroom. Later that night, he flew my door open and jumped on the couch, I could tell that something was wrong. Normally he would be happy and energetic, but he would never just go and sit after a hike.
“Aye man, you good?” I questioned him.
“I'll be fine, I just scraped my leg up pretty bad on something, it hurts like the Devil,” He said in a groan. “Do you want me to take you to the doctors?” I asked scrunching up my eyebrows. “I'll think I’ll live,” He smirked at me. I ran to the bathroom to grab him a bandaid and some warm water. His leg looked like something crawled up through the dirt and ripped it apart. How could he not want me to take him to the doctor? He is mental. The next day he started to act odd, he was randomly coughing up this white looking ooze, but not mucus. His skin was a pale shade of almost greenish blue, what was wrong with him, was it the cut? No matter what it was I knew I should help him. “Hey bud, you sure you don't want to see the
He’s still refusing to see a medic which is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard in my life. Grabbing my phone tightly in my hand I dialed the number of the a man I knew who could help, even if I wasn't sure Ethan wanted it. The guy I chatted with over the phone came over to our house to check out the problem. As he was walking in, he slammed in shin into the couch and, got a small cut. After a while of looking at Ethan's leg the man suggested that he should go get it look at. As expected Ethan refused to go see the doctor. The man that came over called me to say that he got infection too and so did his wife. They went to see the doctor and he said it was unlike anything he had seen before, they couldn't go home because it would become deathly infected within hours and it would spread very