A risk-taker's tale |1| : The becoming

in #writing2 years ago

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I was flying. What a great feeling, I thought. It has always been my dream to fly. For a moment, I felt like a superhero. Then I was falling. What a scary feeling it was! I was the one needed saving. Before I could understand everything, there was a huge thud. Bang! I hit the ground. Pain came over me then I was numb. It was hazy –everything seemed to have stopped but was also moving rapidly. I closed my eyes and laid there for a while not understanding anything.

I looked around to see I was in the middle of the street, face down, lying awkwardly with blood all over me. The pain returned as I remembered. Ah! A truck hit me as I was running to get across the street. I remembered the red light, running, the truck, running faster. I tried to run faster as I saw the truck swerve and head towards me but I guess I wasn't fast enough. I blinked and then it was blank.

My mind told me to stand up but I couldn't move. Apart from the physical pain, I felt nothing. No tears, no fear and no idea what's going to happen next. They didn't teach me in first grade class what to do in times like these. Countless hours spent on those tedious classes didn't prepare me for this. People started to fuzz over me. Some were shouting, others kept asking me questions. I wanted to answer but I couldn't speak much. My mouth tasted bitter and it smelled like iron. It felt weird and heavy! My nose won't stop bleeding. I was worried that the blood won't come off from my uniform and I still have class tomorrow –or on Monday. I wasn't quite sure what day it was anymore. I felt tired and dizzy. I didn't like school but I knew I needed to go. I wanted to ask where we were going as they carried me to the truck that hit me, then I heard somebody say, the hospital. Ugh, I don't like hospitals either! My mind wandered to the toys I bought after school that were sent flying after I was hit. My friends were surely waiting for me so we could play our game. The thought made me sad.

I woke to an exchange of whispers. They didn't realize I was awake so I kept silent. They said the driver should leave because my family might be mad at him for bumping me. I wasn't mad. I knew he didn't do it on purpose and I was okay. I knew I was going to be okay.

The next time I woke, it was to whispers of familiar faces. My family was there! The first thing I asked was what happened to the toys I bought. I spent my allowance on those. I saw the relief in their eyes as they told me they'd buy me toys when I get home.

The doctor kept asking me to walk back and forth. He was smiling, surprised that I came out from the accident with no major injuries but a wounded face and a few bruises. I smiled back feeling indestructible at that moment knowing that I got through the accident strong and healthy. It's funny to look back at it now. I laugh at my 7-year-old self.

I was 7 years old at that time and I have loved life from that moment on. The accident made me fall in love with life for the first time. Although I found out that life is not a fairy tale filled with charming heroes and awesome superpowers, I also knew deep in me that life is not a tragedy because I was strong enough to live through the pain and fear.

At 7 years old, I started to realize that there's strength in me and it felt cool. Little did I know that it marked the beginning of a resolve to live as deep as I can; the start of my becoming.

With a grateful soul,
The risk-taker who fell in love with life for the first time


Life is not a fairy tale. It's not a tragedy either. It is what it is, a story; and we choose which part of the tale to live in.

The image used is an original artwork.

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