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First time I remember any physical pain

The year was young and it was only 1993. At the time I was a four year old child with a mullet and a rambunctious sense of style. There was no telling what my next move could be, because. everything was so new to me. At this point in my life, there was a very elementary sense of what I liked and disliked. One thing I liked very much was eggs; I had them every morning for breakfast. One day while I was visiting my family in mexico, I went to my grandmas house for some breakfast. It ain’t the coolest thing I ever did but it worked. That day they were making some posole, all my uncles were already eating by the time I arrived. I have never liked posole; I don’t know if its because of the taste or the texture but it really rustles my jimmies. It really made me upset, so naturally being a four year old child with a mullet I started to pout. Nobody was paying attention to me so I had to take matters into my own hands. I walked up to my grandma and told her, “Quiero unos huevos con bolita”; meaning I want some eggs sunny side up. She smiled at me, but there was no assurance of it being a yes or a no. I waited for a while until I saw that she was cooking something on the stove; I had to check if it was indeed my eggs. I went in search of a stool or a chair, but to no avail there was nothing in sight. Luckily for me there was the pot of posole sitting right next to stove, so I thought that would be my best option. I walked towards the pot put a foot on top and when I was about to put the second foot up the lid flipped. My foot went straight to the bottom of the pot and my power ranger shoe I was wearing was immediately filled with hot juices. Everyone rushed towards me at the same time, like when someone is about to fight. I was crying hysterically and the pain was so excruciating that I blacked out. I woke up hours later in a curanderos house, basically a medicine man from the village, and I felt them removing pieces of skin from around my ankles. I was confused at first after waking up, but once I saw what was happening I started to scream and I blacked out again. It seems like I woke up about a year later, because I was back in the states and was confined to a wheelchair.

Created: Feb 21, 2014

Tags: non-fiction, story, prose, free-verse

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