Mikayla Rucinski, age 11
Maltby Intermediate
My stomach was fluttering. I nervously sat down on the blue swing. I got a hint of the smell from the metal chain. Mitch sat on his yellow swing next to mine.
“Three . . . Two . . . One!” We counted down together. I started to gain momentum. The swing started to sway. My whole body began to shake. I took a grip on the metal chain. It was warm from the summer sun.
I leaned back. My hands were sweating. My grip was loosening. It felt as though I had just dunked them into a lake.
My body moved backward until the swing was no longer holding my body. I started to let go. In that split second when my hands were in the air, I realized I had let go too early.
CRUNK! I landed onto the rough, crunchy sand. A ripple of pain shot through my body. I closed my mouth and I tasted the sand mixed with blood.
I lifted my head slowly.
“Are you okay?” Mitch asked as he rushed off his swing. I then stood up.
My chain was ripped. My whole head hurt and my lip was burning. I carefully touched my chin. It started to sting. It hurt, but I knew I was going to be okay.
