Childhood's tragic event
...just a kid and at the age of 9 and thought this would be the most spectacular day of my life and I would enjoy it, but unfortunately that wasn’t the case. Everyone came and wished me and my joyous event that I call a birth day. Yet all the kissing and hugging I got wasn’t 1 satisfying to me, I wanted more which was like any other normal kid to go out for ice cream and celebrate with my family. And that wish my dad fulfilled for me by taking me out. As we were on our way to the ice-cream shop, we came across a bridge which was dark since it was night time. There were some people walking on the side walk. My dad and I were just talking and laughing. Suddenly this older couple in their 70’s, took off from that side walk and started for the road to cross. I assumed that they didn’t see us even though we kept on honking but they ignored the honk. My dad was driving too fast to stop at that moment but tried his best to steer the wheel. I was screaming and yelling at the old couple to move but it was just to close to do anything at that moment. He knew he couldn’t move to the other side since it was a one way traffic road and on-coming traffic was heavy that night as well. We both screamed, our motorbike crashed between them, throwing them apart from each other. Our bike fell on one side screeching on the paved road. I was trembling with my eyes shut tightly. Quickly the crowd gathered around us. The older couple was hurt badly and was taken to the hospital immediately in someone’s car. My dad came to me and checked if I was hurt but I didn’t say anything. Someone helped my dad fix our bike and we managed to quickly get out of there. My dad was bleeding all over on his left side but he was more worried about me, and kept on asking me to hold him tight till we get to the hospital 2 When we got there, we were taken into the emergency room, and were treated immediately. Unfortunately, I had six stitches on my left thigh and some bruises on my hand and leg and my dad had broken his left arm and had a plaster on it. That night when we went home, I cried and apologized to my mom and dad. After all this situation happened because of me, and my stubbornness. But my dad cried and said,” No dear, I am sorry I have given you that worst gift of six stitches on your leg on your birth day!” I was so touched by his wordings that nothing else in the world meant more than him huggin...