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James Litzsinger Descriptive Essay

James Litzsinger Descriptive Essay

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Published by: otcscribd on Mar 13, 2012
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James Litzsinger 1James LitzsingerMr. NeubergerENG Comp. 101-1301 March 2012Descriptive EssayMy Scooter Wreck It was around the year 2001, but I remember like it was yesterday. I lived at the end of the road in an apartment complex in Nixa. The apartment building I lived was the fourthapartment building down the road. The concrete road was about two-hundred yards long and ithad a small slope to it. My friends and I used to ride our scooters to the top and then race to theend of the street.
I can’t even count how many times we would do that every day.
All I did wasplay outside. It was a perfect day. We played basketball and dodge ball as the cool spring breezeblew. The sky was baby blue and the clouds were as white and puffy as cotton balls. The sunpierced through the clouds like a knife through butter. Thinking back at the sun, my grandma
used to tell me that when the sun shined through the clouds like that it meant “angels werecoming down from heaven.”
 My brother had just come out to play with us, and we started to ride our scooters. Werode them up to the top of the road and lined up for the race. My brother counted down,
“3... 2…1… GO!” I dash
ed passed my sluggishly paced pals into first place. I had the lead by about fiftyfeet. I was about halfway down the road when I realized that I was on a straight path to a gravelpatch. My wheels wobbled while I tried to steer away but it was too late to do anything about it. Ihit the gravel at full speed and flew off of my scooter head first as if I was diving into a pool. I
tried putting my hands out to try to keep my face from looking like hamburger meat, but it didn’t
James Litzsinger 2work at all. My palms skidded on the ground like a smooth rock skipping on a lake. My elbowshit next, then my chin, and then my knees. It was like I was playing baseball, sliding for homeplate. I layed there in shock, motionless lying on my back waiting for help. The concrete andgravel had peeled the skin off of my palms, elbows, chin, and knees like a cheese grater. Mybrother witnessed the tragic accident and ran into the apartment to tell my mom what hadhappened. She quickly ran outside and picked me up off of the warm now blood coveredconcrete to take me inside. I was limp in her arms like I was paralyzed from the neck down. That
 part of the story isn’t even the worst part.
 When my mom took me inside she grabbed a bottle of peroxide to clean my wounds. Icried like a new born baby for what had to be at least thirty minutes. After the cleansing, Iproceeded to the living room to lie on the couch very slowly such as a sloth moves suspiciouslythrough the trees. The living room was as dark as a movie theatre. The light from the TV beamedthrough the darkness like
a train’s light shining through the night fog. I
felt useless. I movedaround like C3PO from Star Wars besides the bent arms or knees because the pain was toointense. You have no idea how bad it hurt using the restroom. I stayed on the couch for the restof the day thinking about what I am going to do now. The days went by as if they were in slowmotion because I had to stay inside because of my wounds. I stayed inside for a week after myaccident, to the point where I felt that it was safe for me to use my limbs again.Due to my injuries, I was limited to the activities that I could participate in. I could onlyride my scooter around slowly around the parking lot. Riding my scooter, I had flashbacks everytime I passed the gravel patch. I had to stay far away from it like it was a bully trying to take mylunch money, I was terrified. It took about two weeks for my wounds to fully heal and it wastime to get back on the scooter at full speed. The day was similar to the day of my accident the

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