My mother decided raising four kids while my dad went to work couldn't be hard enough. So she picked up more. Nine screaming kids in one house, excellent idea. Except for me.

With my temper, being in a room full of screeching children, I’m about to snap. Screaming and crying for second after second, minute after minute, hour after hour. I could do nothing but sit there and behave. If only they started being raised to behave like I was.

I’m about to snap. My mom looks at me and she can see it in my eyes. I hate them with nothing she could do about it. Suddenly, she shouts, so that all the children can hear, “Time to go for a walk!” Perfect timing, long walks typically calmed me down.

The bike. Three or four minutes later, all the kids and I went outside, waiting for my younger brother and my mother. In the instant I see a shadow by the door, I run over to it. And I think to myself she will let me do it. I know she will. I blurt out, “mom, mom, mom, can I ride my bike PLEEAASEE?” I use my cutest little kid face after asking. She replied simply and without further explanation “No, you can’t.”

That’s it. I snapped. How could she not let me ride my bike? I love biking and that’s all I wanted to do. She refused to let me even take my bike out of the garage. That’s it, I start my dash. I’m sprinting for what feels like miles, leaving the world in my dust. I didn't want anything to do with her or any of the children.

A tear starts to run down my face as I make it to the top of the hill by my house. I quickly wipe it away, not wanting to know why I’m crying. A look over my shoulder, no matter how brief, reveals they are half way up. Then, I leap forward not knowing what is ahead of me. I turn my head back forward to continue my sprint.

Downhill sprinting, I'm going faster than any passing car. Then I hear something. Without slowing down I start to reach the bottom of the hill, I turn around to see what that noise was. My mom was screaming something at me from the top of the hill.

I blacked out. The last image I saw when turning around was a red Ford pick-up. Before I have time to react I ran into the parked truck hitting my head on the bumper. My momentum, from full sprint to a sudden stop, makes the fall downward felt like a free fall from outer space. The curb smashed the back of my head, almost directly the opposite side the truck hit.

I was on the ground. The next thing I remember is looking into my mother’s eyes as I lay there. She was saying something, why can’t I hear her. What is that noise, what is that ringing. An impulse hits me, I start to feel again. I'm throwing up but I can’t sit up, my head is expanding and growing in pain every second. I black out again.

I wake up in an ambulance. Where am I? Who are these guys sitting around me. Next, I hear one of the guys talking to my mother trying to keep her calm. I grasp her hand tight to say “What’s going on?” But I don’t have to say anything. She leaned forward and kissed my cheek then said “Everything is okay sweetie, we are headed to see the doctors.” I black out again.

I remember being rolled into the hospital and seeing my dad waiting there for me already. Did he really beat the ambulance here? He starts talking to my mom over me, like I'm not there. He finds out what happened. Next I was rolled into a dark room. I remember not knowing where I was, I had that feeling I never understood before then, it was that gut feeling. I black out again.

I wake up again this time in a hospital bed, much more comfortable than what I previously thought it would be. Only my dad was in the room. He didn't realize that I had woken up, and we were just sitting there in the quiet and dark room. Finally, my mom came back and saw that I was awake. She gave me a big hug and asked if I was okay. I was, but still in pain.

Not until later did I learn that my mom was being questioned by child protective services. But, it was only because I fractured four spots by then.

At school the next day, it was the first day of kindergarten. I still went. I had a rough day—I was pushed around and made fun of. No one believed I had fractured my skull. I went home crying in pain.

I learned, that no matter how mad you get, your parents know best. I’m not saying that my mom foresaw me hitting the truck, but she certainly knew something bad would happen. Now, because I didn't listen, I have bad headaches at least 5 times a week and bloody noses at least once a week. Listen to your parents, they know best.