Personal Narrative Fiction

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I think it was February when I got the little white scar on my forehead. I had been sledding with my dad, my brothers Sean, Brendan, and a friend named Timmy. It had just snowed the night before, so the snow was still fresh. The contact my forehead made with the snowboard was so hard that I had to get five stitches, and it left a scar that will always remind me of the cold Sunday in 2009. A tradition had developed throughout the years where my dad took us sledding, almost every Sunday. I enjoyed my time, and in fact looked forward to spending the day with my family. So when we left to go sledding at Mullick Park it was just another Sunday. I had no idea that I would spend the rest of the day in Helen Devos Children’s Hospital. My dad and I had completed our seventh run. The snow was perfectly packed; not too hard and certainly not too soft.…show more content…
I put my face mostly down, to avoid the spray of snow in my face. I saw Tim standing at the bottom as my dad pushed off. He was frozen right in front of the path our sled was following. Because he did not move, my forehead rammed into the plastic snowboard he was holding. My dad asked me if there was any blood on him. I touched my forehead with my pink gloved hand, and bringing it down covered in blood. Fortunatley, someone at Mullick Park that Sunday happened to have gauze with them. I rode home, resting my head on Brendan’s shoulder. We stopped home at our house, to drop Sean and Timmy off, while also grabbing my favorite stuffed animal, that would accompany me to the hospital. I will always be reminded of that Sunday in February of 2009 by the little white scar on my forehead. I will recall the day my dad took us sledding and I ended up spending the rest of the day in the hospital. Long story short, I got five stitches, because of the connection my forehead made with a little plastic snowboard. That is the story of my little white

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