My Earliest Memory

Have you ever had an experience that you haven’t forgotten although it happened a long time
ago? What’s the earliest memory that you can remember? In this essay, I’m going to write
about the most tragic earliest memory of my life.

My earliest memory is based on one of the most tragic incidents I’ve lived. It occurred when I
was 6 years old during the class of Physical Education. I’ve always been a lousy person for
sports, so this course was really frustrating for me. In fact, I used to hide in the bathroom so
that nobody could find me and force me to do exercises. One day, our teacher told us that we
were going to jump the rope, I just couldn’t believe it. How am I supposed to jump the rope if I
don’t know how to do it? I just felt very afraid; therefore, I decided to hide in the bathroom
and wait until class is over. However, one of my classmates figured out that I wasn’t in the
playground during the class; consequently, the teacher sent someone to look for me. Finally,
my classmate found me trying to escape from the bathroom. He was about to tell the teacher
what I had done, but we could reach an agreement. I don’t remember what exactly I told him
nor what he told the teacher after having found me.

Already in the playground, it was my turn to jump the rope, and here is another mystery: I
have no idea what happened, but at the end, I didn’t jump the rope. I felt so happy and quiet.
Nevertheless, something totally unexpected occurred: My friend and I were playing with the
rope doing something like if I was horse and he was a rider. I mean, I had the rope around my
neck and I was running all around the playground, and my friend was behind me holding on to
the rope. We were playing until I hit with a column and fell down in the ground. I don’t
remember that moment like an accident because we were laughing; besides, nobody got
injured.

The next day, in the classroom, I realized that my classmates were looking at me angrily, I
didn’t know why until I saw that the neck of my friend was wry. He was crying and all of my
classmates were telling me abusive and guilty. After that, my friend’s older sister got into the
classroom and started to insult me saying very hurtful words. That was, without a doubt, the
worst day in my life. I wasn’t guilty! It was an accident! Moreover, if the wry neck was because
of the fall, why was she laughing after the incident and even until classes finished?
Nonetheless, everybody thought I was the guilty and that really affected me.