“Great!” I had thought to myself, “How on earth am I supposed to
do cross country on Saturday?!” (I had been competing in a few cross-country
races. I had come first at school and 3rd out of all the schools in
my area. My next race was that upcoming weekend.)
Bravely I took a glimpse at my right arm. It looked
relatively normal even though it seemed to hurt much more than my left (funny
that, the arm that looked fine hurt more).
While I was trying to piece together the current situation
my instructor continued to reassure me everything was OK and that it would be
OK but I was barely concentrating. The
frequent “OW!” just kept escaping from my mouth.
Frantically looking around from where I laid I couldn’t spot
my sister anywhere. I later found out she had rushed to the main desk to call
for an ambulance and if she hadn’t left straight away then I might not be
looking at my left arm today, while I write this.
However, I did see my two other classmates staring at me
with wide eyes full of terror. The atmosphere was deafeningly quiet, except for
me going “OW!” now and again.
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