Speed, pavement and blood. That is all that pops into my mind when I remember that day. I do not think of waiting excitedly to go boating with my friend, a venture I had never tried before. I do not think of the lake, about the smell of the water, or the rush of the wind in my hair as we speed along that lake. What I think of when I remember that day is a more painful reality.

I was a normal and happy 5th grader at the time. It was a fairly calm weekend and I soon learned that I was going to ride on a boat for the first time and it was going to be with one of my best friends. We left the house and I was excited beyond belief. Boating was one of the big things I had wanted to experience, but never had. We spent what felt like hours out there on the lake. The sun was starting to set and we decided it was about time to head home. By the time we got home, I was so excited. I could not wait to go home, which was only a short, but this time painful, bike ride away.

I was riding down that small hill feeling the wind in my hair and smiling at my friend over on the other side of that road. I remember gaining speed and I was still feeling elated from the boating trip. Then, all of a sudden, I didn’t know what was happening it all went so fast-the winding of the handlebars, the mid-air flight and the rush of pain and all of the blood covering my face.

I was a 5th grader and I was not so intelligent. I decided I wanted to show off by winding my handle bars left and right. I was at the bottom of the hill and slowing down. I would be safe and unharmed…right?

Wrong. I was extremely wrong. The next thing I knew, my handle bar went too far to the right and I flew over the handlebars and my face smashed hard into the pavement and I let out a wail of agony. I don’t remember the exact details of the fall, but I do remember just how scared I was. All I could see was my bike and blood everywhere.

Everything FELT normal except that my face hurt like there was no tomorrow, and the tears running down my face. I was on the side of the desolate street crying and screaming in agony with my friend by my side helping me back to his house.

It wasn’t until his parents had called mine and I was home cleaning the blood off of my face, when I noticed it. Where was my left front tooth? I called up my friend to go down to the scene of the accident to look for it. There was no tooth in sight. He and his father searched for the longest time but still no front tooth on the ground. My face was all scratched and I couldn’t eat right for weeks. It hurt to swallow, to even move my face at all.

I never did get my tooth back, it is gone and I will never have that part of me back. My smile is now permanently disfigured. After everything that happened, every time I smile in the mirror I remember that day, and I wish I had been intelligent enough to know better than to fool around with speed, gravity and pavement.