Narrative Essay On Emergency Line

Have you ever cut off someone’s limb? I nearly did, when I was ten years old. It all happened in a moment, a quick slice, blood all over the dirty snow, tainting the already tainted snow, but into a blot of red rather than a shade of gray. Blood pooling up as the adult present was freaking out, frantically calling the mountain’s emergency line. My sister and I not really realizing the severity of the injury, we sat there as we waited for people to help. Going several hours back in time, my eight year old sister and ten year old I were driven to Wachusett Mountain, going to a ski lesson, unaware of the events to come. We ate a quick breakfast, packed our ski bags, and set off with our father chauffeuring us. It turned out that me and my sister were the only ones at that lesson that day, I being less than enthused. (I somewhat dislike my sister for many miscellaneous reasons, such as her wonderful personality.) Regardless, we started our day, going up and down and up and down and up and down the hill. We flew through the snow, through easy blue square trails, following our teacher in a curved line of follow the leader, like ducklings following their mother. We ate lunch, and continued our consecutive runs. On the next ski down, we decided to go down a different trail, a pretty icy trail, slightly harder to ski on. It was also a narrow trail, the sides

Afterwards, after some treatment at the bottom of the hill, my sister was sent of to the ER with my mother, my father and I following in our car, as I played Pokemon on my ds. I continued to play the game throughout the whole procedure, even showing her the game right before she received her anesthesia for surgery, because I had apparently cut through her leg all the way right before the bone. She still has the worm of a scar to this