Personal Narrative: My Red Bike

The date was September 15th, 2011. It was a normal night, and the air was getting colder as fall approached Northern Minnesota. The perfect condition for riding my brand new red bike. I used to always love going on bike rides around the small lake that was just a couple steps from the back door of my house. At age twelve I was a really active child, and riding bike at night was my favorite thing. It gave me time to be by myself and just think about life. My parents never worried about my safety because in our little town of Middle Rock there was a population of only about 200. So when I went missing one September night, no one noticed. I suddenly woke up to an extremely bright white light shining straight into my eyes. Quickly I tried to sit up from my laying position, but I couldn't. Straps were restraining my legs and torso to a cold, metal table. Finally my eyes became focused and I scanned the surrounding room. Where was I? I was sitting in a tiny, unfamiliar place. It was covered floor to ceiling in a silver chrome color, almost like it was made out of mirrors. Looking up I saw
I dropped my bike in my front yard and raced into the house. Calling for my mom and dad I suddenly realized that it was a weekday and they would be at work. Being that I was an only child, I was home alone. Quickly, I looked at the clock on the stove in the kitchen, it was 11:02 a.m.. They wouldn't be home for at least six more hours. I started panicking and thinking of all of the possibilities of what could’ve happened to me. Then I remembered my strange dream that I had when I fell off of my bike. Maybe what I thought was a dream was actually a reality. I needed some time to think and calm down so I went upstairs and into my bedroom. I jumped into my bed and tried to get some rest because I hadn’t slept that night due to my bike accident. My eyes were slowly closing more and more and I finally fell