Liezl Lazaga

One of my memories when I was young was when my mom finally let me ride my bike alone outside my house. Over the summer, we always go to our grandmother’s house. I was probably seven or six years old when this incident happened.

                  I was always excited to go to my grandmother’s house because my mom left our bicycles at my grandmother’s house so we wouldn’t ride them at home.

                  So one summer when we went to my grandmother’s house, it felt different. I knew that today was going to be the day that I ride my bike. I was always the kid left out back then because everyone, even my cousins, were older than me, but this time I knew wasn’t going to be left out. Today my cousins, my sisters and I were planning to ride bikes. Except me of course, I had to ask first. When I asked my mom, she said “no, it’s too dangerous”, I expected that answer anyways, so I went to my grandmother and asked her if I could ride it, and thankfully she said yes.

                  I thought this was the best day of my life. I rushed to a storage room behind the house. I got my bike, then realized that there weren’t any brakes on, but I thought that was fine. Also, I didn’t really wear a helmet. I rode my bike with my cousins grinning from ear to ear.

                  My grandmother’s house is located on a mountain or a hill so the roads were bumpy and roads that go up and down. My cousins and I found this steep hill that goes up beside my grandmother’s house and decided to walk up, and then ride our bikes down this hill. I was a little hesitant at first because it was very steep in my eyes, but my cousin, Von, convinced me do it.

                  Just as we were going up I thought to myself, “Is this really a good idea?” I could feel the sweat going down my back, and I could see the sun setting down and finally I was at the top. I looked at the bottom of the hill and saw my cousins and y sisters looking up at me at the bottom as I was looking down on them from the top.

                  Finally, I decided to go down. As I was going down, I thought that I had control.  I tried to stop the bike with my feet, but I couldn’t stop the bicycle, so I panicked. I had to think fast so I tried to go left. When I turned bike left, I fell off my bike and skidded my knees and elbows against the cement platform.

                  My elbows and knees stung a lot more than I had thought, I felt like they were burning, but I told myself not to cry because if I did my mom would find out and wouldn’t let me go outside again. But, she still found out about me falling off my bike and getting hurt and told me to go back to my grandmother’s house. As I walked back to the house, limping, but not crying, I saw the look on my mom’s face.

                  She looked very angry and had the face of “I shouldn’t have let you ride your bike.” We went back to the house and she put Hydrogen Peroxide on it and that’s the part when I cried because that part felt like my skin was burning.

                  Part of me knew that she would inevitably find out that I fell on my bike, and part of me hoped she didn’t find out, unfortunately she did. My mom didn’t let ride me ride my bike again until I was nine or so. After that time, I think part of me became stronger because I never cried again when I got hurt, physically. Well, maybe once or twice.