Savannah Frickey

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Always Wear A Helmet 

The first day of fourth grade will forever be engraved in my mind. It had been a normal morning filled with the usual jitters of seeing old friends and the dread of summer ending. We met new teachers and received new textbooks in order to prepare for the upcoming year. Little did I know, I would not be back for the second or third day. 

After the exciting first day, my mother picked me up with what seemed like a million questions. I answered the interrogation as I anticipated arriving home to my electric scooter that I had spent all summer zooming around on. My friends and I had formed our own scooter gang and rode the streets of the subdivision. As soon as I got home, I met up with the group and rolled out. We scooted all around the neighborhood. Things were going great until I entered the wrong yard. 

I made my way across a nearby house’s front yard. I went from their luscious, soft grass to the hard cement driveway to find myself flying over the handlebars of my electric scooter. I had hit a small ditch that sent me soaring. I landed on my head that was thankfully protected by a helmet. However, my face was not. The cement and helmet pinched my eyebrow to give the allusion that a baseball had been shoved up my eyelid. I did not cry at first until I touched my face and felt the large, hard lump just above my eye. The other riders had different reactions.  While one boy ran away, the other yelled that he was going to get my mom. He very calmly knocked on the front door and said, “Mrs. Michelle, Savannah had an accident.” She instantly freaked out, as I have a history of getting hurt, and spun around in circles before taking off running to find me laid out on the driveway, screaming in pain. 

My mother arrived in a panic. She scooped me up and rushed me inside to ask my dad what needed to be done. They sat me down on the couch and attempted to get me to stop sobbing. We had dinner company over that night, and everyone made an effort to calm both me and my mom down. The decision was made to skip the hospital despite the burst blood vessel in my eye. Instead, I was forced to stay up all night in order to prevent my concussion from turning into a coma. 

As the night progressed, the pain increased. My mother stayed up with me all night, holding ice packs on my face and making sure I did not drift off into slumber. I got up several times because it was very difficult to lay in a dark room and not go to sleep. I went to the restroom to see just how bad my goose egg looked in the mirror. When I saw the protruding knot, I began hyperventilating and cried some more. With my eye swollen shut and a nice purple bruise coming in, I could not bear to look at myself; I felt like a monster. 

After four days of ice packs and avoiding the mirror, I returned to school. I dreaded walking into the school building and being made fun of. I considered wearing an eye patch to cover the horrifying black eye. I decided not to and I entered. The first person I encountered was my friend who was standing at the water fountain. As she turned and noticed my injury, water poured from her mouth and her eyes grew large. She asked, shakingly, what had happened to my face. I told her the story and she felt sorry for me. This would be the first of many times I would explain how I obtained the nasty bruise. 

The story of the infamous scooter crash is one I have told a thousand times and will continue to do so. Despite the horrid bruise, this experience taught me to always wear a helmet. I may still get hurt with it, but the damage could be a lot worse without one. 

Please click on the arrow below to hear Savannah’s Senior Reading.