Scarred For Life

Scarred For Life
It was impossible to keep my excitement in my mind. With my happiness, i leaped into the car.
4 HOURS LATER
I shot the door open and sprang outside. “ Hey Ryan”, says my grandpa. Ignoring him I bolt past him, and the next thing i saw hit me, there would never be anything more exiting!
When I saw the bright red and blue dirt bikes it was amazing, I knew there was one dirt bike there before I came but today there was two. I couldn’t hold in all of the excitement and I almost screamed. I told my brother to come in the garage as soon as he could, within a couple of seconds, he scurried into the garage.
I think Reid was as excited as I was, because his face was filled with enjoyment. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that face on him until that today.
We then got our helmets on and started up the dirt bikes. The noise of the engine filled my ears with gratefulness. Starting then, we rode for hours and hours...
I was loving the riding so much that i forgot the time. I didn’t even have a clue, even though it was getting dark. Finally, Reid stopped the dirt bike, which made me stop.
“What are you doing?”, I ask.
“I’m tired, and i think my hand has gone numb from gripping the handle so hard.”, he mentions. I was amazed on how long we were actually riding, we had been riding for over three hours.
The next morning, I got up bright and early to ride the dirt bikes. My brother wasn’t awake yet, so that meant that I would drive by myself. I scrambled outside and started up the small blue dirt bike.
It was nice weather so i decided to stay outside. I raced a couple of laps before it happened. One lap, I turned wide around the big blue house. Wide enough to make me go straight towards the tree. I panicked and turned the dirt bike as sharp as I possibly could, as fast as i could. The next thing I knew the exhaust pipe (of the dirt bike) was on top of my leg.
I’d never felt anything like it before ( 8 out of 10). It felt like someone had stuck liquid nitrogen on my leg. About an hour of treating it, it became a weird and/or gross bubble. That disappeared about a week later.
Up to this day, I still have the mark, and I’m thankful that it wasn’t worse. But on the downside, I was told it would be a life-long scar.
Today I still ride dirt bikes, and I’ve crashed more times and, thankfully, none have been fatal. Someday my scar will go away, but my memory won’t ever forget.
Ryan J. Allen