Reflection of My life

Topics: Family, Hand, Mother Pages: 5 (2411 words) Published: November 24, 2013
I can remember being about 4 or 5 years old and my Mom, my older brother Shawn, and myself were attending some kind of grown-up function at my Aunt Jonnie Mae and Uncle Duke's house. I'm not exactly sure what the celebration was but whatever it was, I got to stay up late and play with my cousins so, in my opinion, who cared! LET’S GO!!!! (LOL). Once outside, the warm afternoon air blew softly as the beautiful array of colors lined the sky indicating the beginning of a gorgeous sunset. We made our way down the street and around the corner to my grandmother's house. Once there, we all ran around, laughing, screaming, and chasing each other; on foot and on wheels. Being a light-weight, tom-boy, I rode one of my cousin's vintage mens 10 speed bike with the curled handle bars. As I'm riding this large bicycle, trying to balance on the bar in the middle without hurting my little 'va jay jay', and at the same time trying to go as fast as my little legs would let me, I saw Shawn, cousin Maine, cousin Wayne, and uncle Gary riding their bikes in my direction but in the street. Now what made this fool Shawn think, "Hey, let me go bother Sheba"; I don’t know. At this time I'm on the sidewalk, as I was too young to ride in the street, so they said. Here come this fool Shawn barreling straight toward me on the side walk. Now my first thought was, "Huh boy here he comes". My next thought was, " Ummm I know he ain't tryna play chicken wit me is he?" And my last thought was, "Oh shit! Let me grab something cuz I'm going to bust my ass". As I wobble on the too big bike, Shawn rode toward me like a bat outa hell and I swerved right, he went left and I was rudely introduced to a fence. As I fell I tried to grab the fence to break my fall but instead the prongs on the fence delve deep into my little hand and ripped straight up to my middle finger. When I fell my hand slapped so hard on the ground that I didn't realize it had been cut until I started to do the shaking of the hands that people do when they slap something so hard it stings. I looked down and saw blood sprinkles on the ground. Then looked at my hand in shock and amazement, Oh My God! I could see the bones and tendons in my hand! I can't honestly say that I remember the initial pain but the sight of my flesh made me let out a scream that I'm sure they heard on the moon. My cousins, brother, and uncle all jumped off their bikes and ran to see what had happened and all I could do was hold out my hand and scream. The looks I saw when they saw my hand were like they had seen a ghost. The next thing I knew I was on the back of my uncle's bike zooming down the street. We arrive at my Grandma Anne's house. My uncle grabs me off the bike, running the whole time until we saw my grandma and he screamed "Ma! Sheba cut her hand". Seeing how frantic Gary was, she gently pulled me into the kitchen where she wrapped my hand in damn near a whole roll of paper towels, put me back on the back of Gary's bike, and we took off again this time in route to my mom. Upon returning to my aunt and uncles home, Gary ran me up the narrow stairway, opened the door and took me over to the table where my mom was sitting. I assumed like we caught them in the middle of a card game. As he put me down my mom asked “What happened?" She saw my hand had been wrapped with almost a whole roll of paper towel so naturally she knew something major had occurred. My uncle began to explain while my mom removed the paper towel from my hand to reveal this extremely large, gapping cut in the middle of my hand. She took me to the bathroom and washed it off with no signs of being upset or anything the whole time. She was always so calm and cool. She smiles at me and says "It’s gone be ok baby, we goin to emergency so they can sew your hand up. OK?" I agree and we departed. As we drove in the car to the ER listening to FM 108 playing the latest hit, I can remember seeing my mom's reflection in the car...
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