My Unforgettable Memory

During my fifteen years of my life, there are sure many memories impossible to forget. Happy memories, sad memories, embarrassing memories, and such. One of them, the one that I would remember clearly no matter how much time has passed is when I broke my ankle. It happened when I was in second grade of elementary school. Around that time of my life, I could not seem to stay put. I would always jump and run around, with the impact of me breaking things; glass windows, my mother’s porcelain plates, and even my own body part.

The way my elementary worked is that second graders start their lesson at late morning after the first graders finish, due to lack of class given. I always got to school early because my father had to go to his campus early, too. Therefore, I always had plenty time to kill before class started. Together with my other early-comers classmates, I played around the school building. My favorite spot was the stairs which connected the first floor (where my class was) and the second floor (where the higher classes were). Before that stairs to the second floor, there was this space which is perfect for us to hang around while waiting for our class to start.

When you were little, remember how your mother used to scold you when you play by the stairs? Well, I didn’t seem to take my mother’s warning seriously by then. As I arrived at school, I would quickly drop my bag and go to the stairs. It was not recess time, so it was pretty spacey for me to play. The banister was especially fun to slide onto. It was glossy and smooth, which made it even better to act as my free rollercoaster ride.

The problem was not at this banister, however. It was this other game, in which I challenged myself to jump from stair to stair. When I successfully jumped across one stair, I would try to jump across two. One, two, three, all I passed easily. However, when I tried to jump across four stairs, I fell.

I did not feel the pain right away, just numbness. Those days, falling was usual experience for me, and I had experienced lots without any serious injury. So, I did not understand why I could not seem to move my right foot easily. My friends asked me if I was alright, and I just shrugged and laughed it off. Throughout that day, I restrained the pain (which arose if I moved my right foot) and convinced myself that the pain was not a big deal, that it would go away at the end of the day.

Unfortunately, it did not go away. The pain was still there by the time the school ended, and it only got worse. Because I was still a second grader, I went home by a pick-up transportation service, where kids with the same neighborhood go home together with a car driven by a driver. On the way home that day, one of my friend stepped on my ankle by accident. So, the pain grew, and grew, and grew.

When I got home, the pain was intolerable that I directly cried to my mother. She panicked even more than I was and quickly took me to a hospital nearby. Turned out that I broke my ankle’s bone, that I had my right foot casted for two weeks.

From then, I tried my best to restrain myself from jumping and running around anymore.