Broken Foot + Broken Arm = Disaster

 

One spring morning my brother was going downstairs to get on his shoes. He said, “Jemma, can I get by you?”

“Sure,” I said.  As I answered his question, I thought to myself, “ I can’t wait to get my cast off my broken foot!” I had no idea how much pain that little answer would cause me!

 

As my brother, Beckett, was transitioning on to the stairs I took both of my feet off the ground and had my arms giving me all my support. I gripped the handles of my crutches hard so I would not fall. My hands were getting sweaty.. I held on extra tight to my crutches handles as my brother passed me. But silly me. My arms would not hold my body and crutches. Beckett had slipped by me, but when he turned around to walk down the stairs facing forward he accidentally nudged me.

 

I fell off my crutches and rolled head first stair after stair after stair. To make matters worse my crutches rolled down after me and hit me on the head. When I stopped rolling I landed on the hard, sharp, dirty, wood floor. I had fallen on my arm and  I started to cry.

 

I really wanted to blame someone. A person who made this happen; the first person I thought of was Lila…

 

Lila lied to me when I broke my foot. Her scooter had a different brake than mine and I told her that. I asked her if her break was different than mine and she said no. We were riding to the park and we were on her block at the first cross walk. I tried to brake the scooter but it did not work so I had to use my foot to stop. I tripped over the scooter and broke my foot. I did not know it at the moment but I started to cry as I limped back to her house. I felt so much pain. I felt like a hammer just hit me in the foot.

 

After I fell down the stairs I get up from the hard floor searing in pain. I limp into my parents room and lie down on their bed to calm my pain. I wonder if I will ever break one of my brothers bones?