Personal Narrative - Hit by a Car Essay -- Injury Disability

The Living ShadowI want a lot, and theres a lot I dont. exclusively Id rather I non want at all. To want - such a human subject to do You know, a trait of those organic markers who demarcate and deface hence there are those gray areas. similar an epidemic, the smears spread from one to another..I apologize. Im making the murky waters murkier. To elucidateA yellowing calendar foliate materializes before my own eyes. As I ponder above the black and w establishe chessboard splashed with gray, I glance as an inexplicable draft copy flattens the page momentarily over a dusty dividing line. The page reads, swaggering 18, 2008. Immediately, the sheet transmutes into a pane of glass. Nonchalant, I stare as the pane rises up over me, and shatters against my head. The glass pieces disintegrate upon impact, and I stand among showering particles, examining my raw(a) environment. The board has become a garden, one partially teeming with flavour and mixed with utter death and destructio n. I reach out and softly grasp a blurry leaf. Did I touch it? Did I speculate it?As if in answer, I feel itand then, its gone. I went into a swooning on that day. At least, thats what they say. They say I was crossing a street near my school on the way to my home. I was jay-walking. much correctly, I was breaking the law. Yes, the irony soaks that calendar page. Yes, a car hit me, sending me flying. No, the actual impact wasnt that damaging. Two fractured clavicles, I think. But obeying the laws of gravity, I fell. Apparently, my head landed on a concrete edge. more correctly, the back of my head collided with stone. Yes, that was damaging. A debilitated cerebellum, I think.Since my brain pedestal incurred damage, it meant that I would possess a physical disability for... ...I raise my penitentiary and jerk it downward. Paint is a temporal dress at best, advanced? At the moment before the knife-like tip strikes a knife-like slab, my movement is halted. Flabbergasted, I try again. What else if not the same end that meets me? I relax the utensil. Its an unspoken rule I cant know round constitutions. A draft inexplicably evinces, and as a reminder, a page materializes What matters, it states. emotional state matters, I retort. What I believe is life, is what I teachwhat humans seeand what they see defines what they rent to do its the human way. I choose to believe what is important. And what a human thing to do So be it, I am an organic marker. I spread the epidemic. Just an organic marker, scribbling and smearing. The murky waters stay the same, as I run my course. Like an unspoken rule, physical constraints run with me. Its the human way.