I used to go to school in a cab to get there quicker. Some days, I walked. If I walked, I would go with my uncle in the morning. In the afternoon, someone else would pick me up and walk me home.
One day, just like usual, a family friend come to pick me up from school and take a taxi to my house. We didn’t live that far away so it only took about 8 minutes to get there. The main street in our neighborhood was full of traffic. When we got out of the taxi, We were crossing the street in the middle of traffic. Out of nowhere, a crazy motorcycle driver came and crashed into me. My ear ripped and I was dizzy.
They took me in the house to give me medicine, but I refused, so they forced me to drink. Eventually, they took me to the hospital to give surgery on my stomach, my face, and my ear. When I came out of the hospital, I took medicine to remove all the scars. So now, when I see crazy drivers, I get nervous because I don’t want to get hit.
When I came back to the U.S. in 2006 where I was born to see my family, but my mother did not know I got hit with a motorcycle until my dad told her. After a few years I got hit with a car where my mother work , so my mom’s older sister call her to tell her the bad new about me, she ran to come see me if I was OK then we went to the hospital and than went home. My hand was hurt and I had to wait until my hand feel better, so after some days past I started going outside to play.
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