Ever since I was young, my mother taught me that if I found myself in a situation I didn’t feel comfortable in, get out. It didn’t matter if it was a stranger or a close friend that put me in an uncomfortable situation, just get out.
I always thought that I’d be able to tell people no and when to stop, my mom did it with ease. The year I turned six, I found out that telling people wasn’t always easy, especially when they are so persuasive.
Winter in Lakewood had started, and we had just been hit with a snowstorm a few days back. The last step off the school bus was icy.
I was wearing my favorite yellow scarf that covered just the tip of my nose. When the bus door opened, I felt the cold breeze hit my red little nose.
The kids in front of me got off the bus without any hassle, but I slipped on the ice on the finale step, busted my knee on the curb, typical. It didn’t hurt that bad, just stung a little.
Luckily, my snowsuit damped most of the fall. My face laid flat down in the snow, too embarrassed to get up. The bus driver asked me if I needed any assistance, I didn’t want to trouble the poor old lady that had to drive a bunch of loud kids around for a living, so I just gave her a thumbs down and a wave goodbye.