My dad had just bought me a new bike on the way home. We were leaving the bike shop when I was coming back from a restaurant one day. My dad bought me a really nice silver bike, almost effortless to ride. When we went back to our house, I got the first ride on the bike because my sister had to do her homework and my older sister went to have a shower. So it was just me in the front porch riding the bike. And before I knew it, I was in the hospital, crying.

I was having fun riding the new bike which was awesome compared to the 12-year old bike belonging to my older sister. Then, within five minutes, I accidentally went a little too fast and to avoid crashing into the car there, I turned my bike and crashed into the gate instead. I had actually thought that it didn’t feel too bad since the old bike would often crash within 2 minutes of riding. But when I looked back, I saw something horrible.

I saw that my left thumb was in stuck between the gearbox and the pedal. The bike was still undamaged but I didn’t care. The crash of the bike had forced the flesh through the chain and the gears. To make matters worse, the pedal had swung down and secured my hand into place. Even if I managed to tear my skin and flesh from the chain, I’d still have to remove the pedal.

There was only one thing to do which was scream. I screamed and cried for ten minutes. It was so painful, I thought I would have died. After around ten minutes, my dad, who was watering the plants, finally heard me screaming. He tried to pry my hand away from the bike, but just made it more painful. My 2 sisters, Amanda and Alexis, appeared with my dad’s driver and the maid.

Using a screwdriver, they managed to remove the pedal. This didn’t make a difference as the pain was not coming from there. Within another five minutes, my uncle was here. We were supposed to go out for dinner, but it was too late. After many failed attempts of trying to pull my hand out from between the gears, my dad finally went to the bicycle shop for help.

The bicycle shop owner had brought along a chain opener, the only possible thing to use that could break open a chain. After what seemed to be a century, he broke open the chain. Even though I was thankful I didn’t need to walk dragging a bicycle along with me wherever I went, the pain hadn’t disappeared. Instead, there was a lump the size of your nose there spouting fountains of blood.

I went to the hospital and they stopped the wound from bleeding. After the pain had ceased, we went back to the house and ate our dinner. Though I was feeling a little queasy, I was perfectly fine ready for another day of accidents and mishaps in my life. I’d like to tell you all, but that’s another story.