It was a warm and sunny day at the prison they call school. The year was 2014; I was young and very hyper. In math class I was thinking about riding my bike through the recently paved roads and overgrown bike trails. All I wanted to do was cruise down a bike trail. The day slowly past at the pace of a snail. Once the last bell had been rung, I ran out of there like a rocket leaving a launch pad. The walk home was long and steep, but it was better than learning math problems. Once I had reached the place I resided, I threw all my stuff into a pile, said hello to  my family, and went to the garage. I felt that my bike was on a golden platter waiting for me like a king at a feast. I mounted it, took a long sigh of relief, and rode out of the garage. The ride was peaceful, with the wind on my ears and the sound of bike tires on asphalt, I felt powerful. I took a couple of laps before it was dark and I decided to call it a night. I parked my bike in the garage, said my goodbyes, and left to get a snack. I settled for an apple and spongebob squarepants on the tv. About an hour after I sat down, I received a text from my neighbor asking if I wanted to go on a bike ride. I looked outside and was surprised that it was already dark. I looked at the analog clock on the wall, it said 9:00 P.M sharp. Knowing that my parents did not let me go outside past 8:00 P.M. I said to myself, I should just stay inside. But something told me I should go and treat myself for all the math I locked up in my brain. So without telling my parents, I left.

I opened the garage door and walked outside into the night. I saw my neighbor at his house putting his flame-detailed helmet on. He was older than me, maybe three or four years. However we still thought of each other as the same age. For the first twenty minutes everything was going well. We had a lot of fun and did not want to go inside. After lapping my neighbor twice, I glanced down at my watch, 9:45. ̈ ̈Oh no!” I yelled. If my mom found out about this I would be in danger for my life. At that moment my mom yelled out from my open garage. ̈ ̈Logan!” she screamed, ̈come back here right now!¨ I was overwhelmed with nerves. I rode back up the hill towards my house. Never have I ever been so humiliated with my friends. I had so much anger towards my mom that I took another lap just to rub it in that I did not care. As I was turning the corner to go back up the hill, My peddle violently scraped the ground and I whacked my elbow on the pavement. It hurt so bad I thought I was stabbed with a knife. My mom came running over to me as I was screaming with pain. She helped me up and we went inside to see the damage. It was not nearly as bad as we thought it was. So we decided it was no big deal and we did not go to the doctor.

After about a week, I realized the pain wasn’t getting any better, so we decided to go get an x-ray. It was embarrassing telling the doctor what had happened, telling her that I was being obedient, but my mom knew that was the farthest thing from the truth. We went into the x-ray laboratory and sat down. It took almost thirty minutes just to fill out the pamphlet they made you answer. Finally, we got the results back. The doctor said I had a very minor fracture and I would need to be in a cast for 4-5 weeks. I have to admit, it was fun getting all of the attention for a few weeks, but I like my arms how they are now. Overall, I think this is a good lesson telling kids to always listen to your parents and don’t stay up past your bedtime.