ADVANCED ESSAY (CLUMSY: 1)

The heat of battle, of the pounding sun, was like a cannonball inside my aching skull. dizzy, nauseous. Everything hurt…Was this really happening? Intense pain shot through my forearm. I found myself releasing low moans of pain. There’s no possible way this could be happening. Commotion arose around me and I began to get bombarded with questions from my mom, as usual, she was yelling. I hate it here. I blinked, I’m pretty sure my arm was now ruptured. It happened all so quick. There I was, attempting to ride a skateboard, no clue how to balance myself or anything. None at all. “Be safe on that thing.” my mother repeatedly bellowed at me to the point where it got annoying. There’s no possible way a skateboard could do more than a scratch. I shrugged her off, continuing to fool around on the wooden skateboard. What was supposed to be 30 minutes turned into an hour and I knew because the sun began to set and the sky began to turn crimson. I began to feel down, I couldn’t achieve the trick I was trying so hard to do. After numerous attempts, I finally built of the undying courage and I placed one on my clothed feet on the edge of the skateboard. I twisted my body and pushed my other foot on the other edge of the skateboard, or at least I tried to, because before I knew it, I was flying. I landed harshly on my arm, hearing a snap. I let out an ear-piercing scream and my neighbors’ dog began to bark. My head began to feel dizzy as the pain in my arm increased. Was this really happening? Here I am, laying on my bed, staring at the ceiling. It was blue. I was blue. It was a very blue day for me as I clutched my cast that protected my now broken arm.

Scene #2

Click. Click. Click. The rain padded the window. The tv sounded low. I was going crazy and some days I ask myself why do I put myself in these pitiful situations. Just 3 hours ago, I was heading to sleep and here I am in a hospital bed with an eye patch over my eye. Why do I let my infatuations get the best of me? The burning sensation began and I knew I was on the verge of tears. At least It’ll be half the tears than on a regular day. “You’re so clumsy.” “You need to stay away... You’re just too clumsy that you might destroy it.” Do you know that terrifying feeling of knowing that you’re about to fall right before you fall? The short distance between the realization and the fall is just a few seconds so there’s no point in attempting to prevent yourself from falling. The feeling of the fall, for me, isn’t as bad as the horror of the knowledge that I’m about to fall. There’s nothing I can do about it. Too tired of blaming myself, I began to blame the universe. It all made sense. I’m not clumsy. It’s just that the floors hate me, the tables and chairs are bullies. The walls are just in the way.  I used to want to be a Physical Therapist but my mom told me that I would break my neck and that I couldn’t go up a flight of stairs without tripping. Now, here I am, 16 years old and I never learned how to do a backflip. Now I’m 16 years old and I want to be a writer but I’ve got a clumsy tongue and sometimes it trips over air, sometimes. This time, I’ll stick my neck out.