“Udobong your up”, I had been called up now for the third time to do high jump, I then began to feel a sharp pain in my left knee but did not want to give up just then. As I built up speed around the curve to jump the bar the pain became unbearable. I finally planted my foot firmly on the ground to clear the bar and it happened, a pop as loud as the firing of a gun. Before I knew it I was on the floor holding my leg up waiting, for help to arrive.
              

“Calm down, breathe” is what the trainer constantly said to me in a nurturing tone, hoping to seize any weight of anxiety on me. I was still holding my leg up at the time in the same position it had been in when the incident had occurred when she said “we’re going to need you to put your leg straight so we can put a temporary splint on it”. I looked at the trainer and had no intention of moving anything in an act of fear.
                 

We were able to move my leg into the temporary splint, surprisingly, and transfer me into our car and go to West Houston Hospital. Driving there had seemed to be the worst part. Every little bump the car faced seemed to increase the pain outrageously. When we arrived at the hospital they transferred me into a stretcher and moved me into a room to wait for a doctor.
                 

Me my brother and my mom patiently waited there for what had seemed like years and still a doctor was nowhere to be found. Lying there not only made the pain uncontainable, but also made things become very stressful.
                 

My mom suddenly woke up from her sleep and said “that’s it; we’re getting out of here”. She unplugged the hospital bed and rolled me through the emergency room past the front desk and right to our car without being stopped. My brother looked at me and said “I know you are in a lot of pain but I’m going to have to lift you into the car so we can take you to a real hospital that can help you”. I took a deep breath and let him do what was needed to be done. The moment he lifted me into the air it had felt like someone had stabbed straight through my knee with a jagged knife, which caused me to let out a scream that could have stopped the entire world.
                       

My mom rushed me to Texas Children Hospital where I was immediately given help. They told us that I had fractured the bone under my knee and that I would need surgery. Hearing this information was hard to take in, but I was just glad to know that I could always count on my brother and my mom to help me in any situation, and that’s all that mattered to me.