A time you were ashamed of yourself
On the morning of September 28, 2003. I woke up early to find a bright blue pushbike of the new brand. It was my birthday and like other boys aged six. I was desperate for a bike like other older children. Finally, I got one. At seven, I started begging my father to take me for a ride.
Not now, go back to bed, he replied. How can I sleep when my brand new bike was sitting there waiting for me? Every five minutes I went back to his room to force him to take me out. Finally, at 08:30, he gave up and promise to.
It was not a particularly hot day so I put on my black sweater and my jeans. As we drove down into grassy steep hill towards the canal, dew glistened in the sun like diamonds suspended from a pure green chain. The autumn cool breeze rushed through the holes in my matching blue helmet. We ran next to the blue waters of miles.
My legs were aching, screaming for me to stop and give them a rest, but I was going to give them? Never! As the slope to a bridge began, my muscles started to give up. "If only I could stop" I thought miserably. Suddenly, I felt fall backwards down slowly at first but then pick up speed quite remarkable. I started to feel panic building inside of me.
"Dad! Daddy, help me! "I called. My chest felt like someone banging from inside. All I could think was, my mother will kill me if I get my new dirty jeans. As I reached the edge of the water, I saw my father sprint from the top of the bridge. "Ali", he shouted, "use your brakes my son."
It was the last thing I remember hearing before hitting the icy water. Water bubbles filled my ears as if someone was gurgling mouthwash in them. I opened my mouth to scream when foul tasting liquid flooded my speech by blocking out. Suddenly, I realized that I could not breathe. I was not up to the surface and I did not physically force to push me up. I remember thinking, "Oh my God, I'm going to die!"
Suddenly big hands were around her waist, pulling me up. I was...