The Beginning

There are literally millions of random thoughts I want to get out of the depths of my mind. I can't really remember the beginning, nor can I remember anything close to it. People have told me that they can remember events or people when they were young, but I cannot. Was it the concussion I had while screaming down the steepest hill in town? I had to have been in third grade by that time as I do remember it was on my first bike. I went so fast the bike was shuddering from the speed. I was quivering inside too since I had never gone down a hill like that before. When I hit the pavement I skidded on the hot Texas asphalt for what seemed to be an eternity. I'm sure it was but a few seconds and was all it took to scrape the skin from most of my right side. Bleeding and crying I set off walking the bent up bike back home. It was a long walk as I had to go around several streets and back up a smaller hill. No one was around to help me, no friends, no family and no strangers. Of course we never talked to strangers back then. When I arrived home Mom wasn't there either. I had no one to cry to but myself. So I cried. My beautiful bike, a blue spider bike, was bent at the handlebars and the front wheel wobbled. I worked the entire summer that year mowing grass at $1 to $2 per yard to earn the money for that bike. It had a three speed shifter on the frame. It was so cool. None of my friends had a shifter and I always believed it gave me a great advantage in our racing games. But today I cried and cried. Skin removed from my arm, the blood dried on my face, slumped beside the 3 speed racer I loved.