IV: Perspective and Point of View
An Early Memory, Part One: The Child as Narrator
I love the swings. They were the first thing I ran to on the playground after our nap. A few of my other friends came with me and we sat down on the seat and tried to see who could get the highest. I was pretending to be Superman, flying high over the city. I liked how it made my tummy feel as I came down and that is when something hit me in the back and I fell off the swing. I guess I kind of flew off the seat because I was far from the swing seat. I hit the hard black cement with my face. I began to cry because it hurt. My nose hurt so bad and it didn’t feel right. I thought I felt boogers on my lip to wipe them away but it was red. I must be bleeding so I began to cry even harder. Pretty soon one of the nice ladies who are in my class came running over and held my face in her hands. Are you alright? she asked? I wasn’t, my face was hurting really bad. I didn’t want to talk so I just shook my head no. She looked at the other kids and asked what happened. My friends they pointed at the boy who pushed me from the swing. I think he got in trouble because as they were taking me inside I remember him getting pulled off the swing by his ear. The teacher lady she took me inside and tried to clean the blood off my face. She said my mommy and daddy were coming to take me to the doctor in just a little bit. She then gave me a bag of ice to hold on to my face. That made me cold and I don’t think it helped my nose much. When mommy came in she was crying, she said it was because she was worried about me. I sat there quietly with the bag of ice on my face as the teacher told her how I got hurt. Mom didn’t look happy. I thought she was going to go spank that boy. Mom picked me up and drove me to the doctor. They looked a lot at my face and took a picture of my nose. The doctor came in to the room again said my nose was broke, but I was lucky that it didn’t get hurt worse. I didn’t have to go to daycare for a few days, but I know that when I go back I am going to stay away from the swings, for now.
An Early Memory, Part Two: The Reminiscent Narrator
Sand littered the faded black top as I ran toward the swings at the far end of the playground. The sound of my friends shoes clapping on the pavement as they chased me on our daily race to acquire one of the eight popular seats. The nap I had just finished energized me, charging the muscles in my legs and giving me the strength to propel my body forward faster than my classmates. I reached out, my hand securing the chain to one of the seats. I spun around and sat down on the hard black rubber. The rubber bent into a nice u-shape giving me a secure feeling, a feeling that I am ready to launch myself into the sky. I backpedaled slowly, eyeing my runway. I ran forward and tucked my legs underneath my seat. My momentum took me up from the ground until gravity decided to reassert itself and carried me back to the ground, the chains carrying me into a beautiful arch that tickled my stomach and lifted my spirits. A smile spread across my face. I hit the highest point at the end of the curve again and this time I thrust my legs out ahead of me and leaned back, my back arched. My speed picked up as I rocketed through my curve. This was ecstasy, pure enjoyment. I was flying towards the sky, my face warming in the sun when the air when out of my lungs. I felt like I had been punched in both lungs at the same time. My arms flailed wildly grasping only air as my body continued its upward climb. I gasped for air and my eyes widened in terror when I beheld what was rushing up towards me, the sand littered black top. There was a sickening crunch as my nose made first contact with the hard surface. A warm, iron tasting liquid streamed into my mouth, tears welled up in my eyes and a scream burst from my mouth. I wiped the blood off my lips and it was quickly replaced by more. The sand from the black top merged with my mouth and clung to my tongue choking my scream and forcing me to spit blood on to the ground. Tears rolled off my cheeks and darkened the warm pavement. I was dazed and unsure of my surroundings when two soft hands cupped my chin and lifted my face. Oh my god, what happened? I sniffed and wiped more blood away. I had to breath through my mouth because my nose felt it was plugged. Are you alright? I shook my head no, it was all I could manage to do through the searing pain that was attacking my face. I made an attempt to stand up and the lady who held my face helped to keep me up. What happened, she looked directly at the other kids. Immediately all the boys and girls pointed at the rough looking boy who had replaced me on the swing. I was escorted into the daycare and given an icepack that was supposed to help take the swelling down. If anything else it hurt more to put anything on my face. In a weird way, I did feel good knowing that the boy who pushed me off the swing was going to get in trouble. Right before the door shut as we entered the building, I saw him lifted off the swing by his ear. At least there is some justice. When mom finally came to take me to the doctor she looked pissed, but scared. It is amazing how your day can start so well, everything seeming to go your way and with one simple choice the day can change dramatically and you find yourself walking out of the doctors office at the age of four with a broken nose. Weird, huh?
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