I thought it was going to be fun, but I was soon to find out it was terrifying. I was seven years old. My whole family was at my lake house up North in Wisconsin. It was Fourth of July weekend, a picture perfect day. The sky was blue, not a cloud in sight, and there was a calm breeze coming off the lake. The older boys were jumping on the trampoline, my dad and my uncle were playing corn hole, and the mother’s were cooking up dinner. You could smell the ribs on the grill from a mile away. A truly picture perfect day.

Our cottage is a small, one floor house in Cleveland, Wisconsin. My maternal grandma and grandpa own it, but all three of our families go up all the time. There are three bedrooms, so every family has their own designated bedroom whenever we make the trip up there. Sometimes extended family comes so we set up tents in the backyard. We have a big lot of land for a small house. The driveway is a steep rocky road with evergreens on each side. There are many hills and a petite black berry tree, which has a white picket fence around it. The backyard consists of a trampoline, a blow up pool, a tire swing, and a hammock; every child’s dream yard. There are three enormous trees right before you reach the beach. We have a bonfire setup and beach chairs and when the raft isn’t in the water it’s sits next to the boat and the canoe.

The day started off like any other. Waking up to the smell of Swedish pancakes, bacon and sausage. My grandpa was taking my little cousin Sammy for a ride on the John Deere tractor. My grandma was in the garden with my sister, Claire. After breakfast, we all headed down to the beach. We went for a walk to look for sea glass. We caught frogs in the pond. We made sand castles and got very sandy. We rinsed off in the water and had a seaweed fight; the usual summer day up there. Johnny Cash was playing through the speakers, because that’s all my grandpa listens to, and we don’t mind it. One by one we started to go inside to get ready for dinner. The adults showered first, because they kids still wanted to play. The sun was still shining bright. The parents were making their drinks. The kid’s were still playing in the yard. My grandpa went up the hill to talk to our neighbor Bob about selling his house, Claire, my cousin Gracie, and I decided to join him.

We ran to the garage to get our bikes. Claire’s was blue and purple, mine was pink, and Gracie had her brother’s hand-me-down batman bike that was very little. Gracie told me that we should switch bikes because she was bigger than me, reluctantly, I gave mine to her and took hers in return. We trudged up the driveway with our bikes and pedaled around the street for a while. We slowly drifted over towards Bob and Barbara’s house. Their driveway was newly paved and it was very steep. The three of us stood at the top of their driveway with our bikes, all thinking the same thing. Claire was the first one to say it. We all agreed that it would be entertaining to ride down to the bottom. Claire and Gracie said that I should go first, and given that I was the youngest, I was honored. My grandpa was still occupied with Bob. No one was watching us. The excitement was building inside me. I started to pedal. Within seconds I was flying down the driveway. Getting a bit scared of my speed, I grabbed the brakes only to find out there were none. I was going too fast and I started to scream. The bottom of the driveway was approaching quickly, and at the bottom, was their garage.

I could hear Claire and Gracie yelling at me to swerve onto the grass, but it was too late. I hit the garage with the loudest bang. The next thing I know is my dad screaming my name shaking me awake. I blacked out. Everyone was running from our yard to my side. I was bleeding. My wrist was in so much pain. My dad was running with me to the house. I was screaming. Terrified and in pain. My uncle was yelling at Claire and Gracie. My mom was getting ice. My grandma was trying to calm me down. I passed out on the couch for an hour or so. Everyone kept coming in to check on me. My face was all cut up. My left eye was swollen shut, and I couldn’t even move my wrist. We are fairly far from a hospital out there. My parents knew it was just a bunch of scrapes, so a hospital bill was not necessary.

My grandma had to put my pajamas on, because I couldn’t do it myself. I couldn’t sleep that night. The pain was worse than anything I ever felt. I was crying to my mom in the middle of the night. I was hurting all over and I was still shook.

I was in pain like that for a couple of weeks. I had to get a brace for my wrist, which was sprained. I have a scar on my nose that reminds me of the terrible decision I made that day. I remember it like it happened yesterday. I can still feel the pain in my body. We all laugh about it now whenever it comes up. I give Claire and Gracie a hard time about it, saying it was their fault, but it wasn’t. It was my fault. I was a little kid and I made a silly decision that wound up hurting me very badly. It’s safe to say I learned my lesson.