June 23, 2006, the day before my sister Michelle’s birthday. My parents left my sister and I at our grandparents’ house. I could feel the floor pounding, as I sprung from one side of the hall to the next untill I reached my grandparents’ room, and I quickly jumped on to the bed, with my sister following. As a five-year-old, I wasn’t allowed to jump anywhere, but that rule didn’t apply to my grandparents. My sister and I looked like popcorn popping up and down, hearing the springs of the bed, and watching the nice fluffy pillows bounce from one spot to the next, which made us laugh and smile. Out of breath, I tried to say, “Hey we should play some muusicc!”
As my sister took off with both feet, her feet leaving imprints on the mattress, and a loud thump from her butt hitting the edge of the bed, and she put both feet on the floor to stand. She shouted across the room, “HEY! What song do you wanna play?”

I took off of one foot and landed hard on the other foot, as I planted both feet on the ground, and I started to run towards my sister. I replied, “I don’t know, just pick a freakin’ song already.”

She rolled her eyes at me, and played a song by Hannah Montana. She thought she could sing along as she screamed, “YOU GET THE BESSTT OF BOTH WORLDS!”

I grabbed some tape, and put my hands around her lips, trying to shut her up. I screamed at the top of my lungs, “SHUT UP! You’re so annoying, if I wanted to her your voice I would have said so, but HANNAH MONTANA is singing so STOP!”

My sister sprinted towards the kitchen where my grandparents were, while I was grabbing the phone calling my parents.

My grandparents said to my sister, “What’s wrong? Do you need some water? We bought your favorite foods.”
My sister looked up and pouted while responding, “She taped my mouth and yelled at me.”

I finally get a hold of my parents and screamed, “She was being rude. She kept on singing, and it wasn’t even good! Why is she so annoying?”

My parents said, “Let me talk to your grandparents about this.”

So I went to the kitchen and passed by my sister, gave the phone to my grandparents, and I closed my hands tightly, squeezing, and digigng my nails into the palms of my hand.

My grandparents said, “Go. Leave the room. The both of you!”

As we stomped back to the bedroom, I opened my mouth and blurted, “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to be mean.”
She didn’t say anything, but she went to the living room and sat on the couch by herself. A little part of me felt guilty, but I thought, “Why didn’t she say anything? I said sorry.” I decided to grab some paper from the printer in the bedroom. I folded the paper in half and then drew a heart on it. I wrote in the card, “I am sorry for what I did. Please forgive me.” Then I walked towards the living room, and gave her the card. I didn’t look to see if she had opened it or not. I wallowed back in the bedroom, and laid on the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. All of a sudden, there was a knock on the door. I hoped that it was my sister.

As the door creaked, slowly opening, a face popped out, and said, “It’s okay. I forgive you! Hug?”
I jumped up, “Of course! Wanna jump some more?”
She said excited, “DUHH!”

As we continued to jump and fall continuously on and off the bed, my grandparents walked in. We simutainously plopped on the bed. Sitting criss-cross applesauce, my grandparents polietely said, “Please don’t jump on the bed. But we are glad to see you guys are getting along again.”

My grandma then said, “Girls, GUESS WHAT I MADE?”
We both shouted, “COOKIESSS!!!”
My sister ran, and I was too tired to run. I told my sister, “Can you carry me there? I am so tired.”
She said, “Sure!” Then pulled my arm to get to me.
I heard a noise, but didn’t think it was important. Then as I lifted my arm, I screamed, “STOPP! OUCHH! What did you do?”
She blurted, “Oh, no. I’M SO SORRY! Let me get help.”

I started to feel like my forearm was no longer attached to my elbow.  I felt a striking pain up my arm. I sat there frozen, and I thought my arm was going to fall off.

My grandma and grandpa bursted into the room. Everyone was screaming and I couldn’t take it, so then my grandparents decided to call my parents. “Meet us at the hospital, Michelle and Katelyn were playing around and Katelyn got hurt.”

After my grandparents were done talking, my grandpa took the car keys and grabbed the coats. He bolted to the car, while my grandma and sister helped me get up and go to the car. I tried to put my coat on, but I couldn’t put my right arm through the sleeve. When we got to the hospital, my grandpa parked and let us out by the front entrance. Finally, a nurse helped me, and took me to get an x-ray. After I was put in a room, the doctor came in and examined me. She was showed me the x-ray. I had a broken tissue in my right arm. The doctor gave me a sling and I had to wear it for four months. I put the black strap around my neck and placed my arm inside the sling.

I asked the doctor, “Can I still color and write?”
The doctor said assuredly, “Of course, you can use your left hand.”

I stayed at the hospital with my sister and my grandparents until my parents came. They ran towards me through the clear, glass, revolving doors. My mom looked worried and angry at the same time, but mostly she smiled, knowing that I was okay. My dad smiled and talked to my grandparents.

My dad polietly asked, “How did this happen?”
I replied, “I was playing around with Michelle, and we sorta got too crazy. Can we go home now?”
My mom said, “Yes! Whatever you want.”

My mom drove my sister, dad, and I back to our house. My grandparents left and went back to their house. When I arrived home, I sat down and grabbed a box of crayons and some paper. I tried to color, but it was impossible for me. I drew lines on a piece of paper, and I had just started coloring inside the lines using my right hand. I looked angerly at my mom and sister.  I stood up to say, “I can’t do this.” I threw my crayons on the floor, and thumped loudly on the floor until I reached my room.

My mom chased after me, and then my sister sat there pondering. Michelle felt terrible about what she had done. She carries that feeling with her until she broke her arm and really understood the pain I felt.

I never jumped on my bed ever again.June 23, 2006, the day before my sister Michelle’s birthday. My parents left my sister and I at our grandparents’ house. I could feel the floor pounding, as I sprung from one side of the hall to the next untill I reached my grandparents’ room, and I quickly jumped on to the bed, with my sister following. As a five-year-old, I wasn’t allowed to jump anywhere, but that rule didn’t apply to my grandparents. My sister and I looked like popcorn popping up and down, hearing the springs of the bed, and watching the nice fluffy pillows bounce from one spot to the next, which made us laugh and smile. Out of breath, I tried to say, “Hey we should play some muusicc!”

As my sister took off with both feet, her feet leaving imprints on the mattress, and a loud thump from her butt hitting the edge of the bed, and she put both feet on the floor to stand. She shouted across the room, “HEY! What song do you wanna play?”

I took off of one foot and landed hard on the other foot, as I planted both feet on the ground, and I started to run towards my sister. I replied, “I don’t know, just pick a freakin’ song already.”

She rolled her eyes at me, and played a song by Hannah Montana. She thought she could sing along as she screamed, “YOU GET THE BESSTT OF BOTH WORLDS!”

I grabbed some tape, and put my hands around her lips, trying to shut her up. I screamed at the top of my lungs, “SHUT UP! You’re so annoying, if I wanted to her your voice I would have said so, but HANNAH MONTANA is singing so STOP!”

My sister sprinted towards the kitchen where my grandparents were, while I was grabbing the phone calling my parents.

My grandparents said to my sister, “What’s wrong? Do you need some water? We bought your favorite foods.”
My sister looked up and pouted while responding, “She taped my mouth and yelled at me.”

I finally get a hold of my parents and screamed, “She was being rude. She kept on singing, and it wasn’t even good! Why is she so annoying?”

My parents said, “Let me talk to your grandparents about this.”

So I went to the kitchen and passed by my sister, gave the phone to my grandparents, and I closed my hands tightly, squeezing, and digigng my nails into the palms of my hand.

My grandparents said, “Go. Leave the room. The both of you!”

As we stomped back to the bedroom, I opened my mouth and blurted, “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to be mean.”
She didn’t say anything, but she went to the living room and sat on the couch by herself. A little part of me felt guilty, but I thought, “Why didn’t she say anything? I said sorry.” I decided to grab some paper from the printer in the bedroom. I folded the paper in half and then drew a heart on it. I wrote in the card, “I am sorry for what I did. Please forgive me.” Then I walked towards the living room, and gave her the card. I didn’t look to see if she had opened it or not. I wallowed back in the bedroom, and laid on the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. All of a sudden, there was a knock on the door. I hoped that it was my sister.

As the door creaked, slowly opening, a face popped out, and said, “It’s okay. I forgive you! Hug?”
I jumped up, “Of course! Wanna jump some more?”
She said excited, “DUHH!”

As we continued to jump and fall continuously on and off the bed, my grandparents walked in. We simutainously plopped on the bed. Sitting criss-cross applesauce, my grandparents polietely said, “Please don’t jump on the bed. But we are glad to see you guys are getting along again.”

My grandma then said, “Girls, GUESS WHAT I MADE?”
We both shouted, “COOKIESSS!!!”
My sister ran, and I was too tired to run. I told my sister, “Can you carry me there? I am so tired.”
She said, “Sure!” Then pulled my arm to get to me.
I heard a noise, but didn’t think it was important. Then as I lifted my arm, I screamed, “STOPP! OUCHH! What did you do?”
She blurted, “Oh, no. I’M SO SORRY! Let me get help.”
I started to feel like my forearm was no longer attached to my elbow.  I felt a striking pain up my arm. I sat there frozen, and I thought my arm was going to fall off.

My grandma and grandpa bursted into the room. Everyone was screaming and I couldn’t take it, so then my grandparents decided to call my parents. “Meet us at the hospital, Michelle and Katelyn were playing around and Katelyn got hurt.”

After my grandparents were done talking, my grandpa took the car keys and grabbed the coats. He bolted to the car, while my grandma and sister helped me get up and go to the car. I tried to put my coat on, but I couldn’t put my right arm through the sleeve. When we got to the hospital, my grandpa parked and let us out by the front entrance. Finally, a nurse helped me, and took me to get an x-ray. After I was put in a room, the doctor came in and examined me. She was showed me the x-ray. I had a broken tissue in my right arm. The doctor gave me a sling and I had to wear it for four months. I put the black strap around my neck and placed my arm inside the sling.

I asked the doctor, “Can I still color and write?”
The doctor said assuredly, “Of course, you can use your left hand.”

I stayed at the hospital with my sister and my grandparents until my parents came. They ran towards me through the clear, glass, revolving doors. My mom looked worried and angry at the same time, but mostly she smiled, knowing that I was okay. My dad smiled and talked to my grandparents.

My dad polietly asked, “How did this happen?”
I replied, “I was playing around with Michelle, and we sorta got too crazy. Can we go home now?”
My mom said, “Yes! Whatever you want.”

My mom drove my sister, dad, and I back to our house. My grandparents left and went back to their house. When I arrived home, I sat down and grabbed a box of crayons and some paper. I tried to color, but it was impossible for me. I drew lines on a piece of paper, and I had just started coloring inside the lines using my right hand. I looked angerly at my mom and sister.  I stood up to say, “I can’t do this.” I threw my crayons on the floor, and thumped loudly on the floor until I reached my room.

My mom chased after me, and then my sister sat there pondering. Michelle felt terrible about what she had done. She carries that feeling with her until she broke her arm and really understood the pain I felt.

I never jumped on my bed ever again.