It sure was fun breaking the rules. It always was. I never bothered thinking about the consequences; I just did what sounded good at the time. The sunshine was invigorating, and I felt like nothing could go wrong, especially when I was playing with all my friends.

“Okay,” my friend Kelly said, “we’ll both jump on the count of three. Ready? One...two...three!”

Kelly and I both jumped off her deck, with me heading straight for the middle of the trampoline. Kelly landed just a half a second after I did, which sent me flying in the air. Since I weighed hardly anything, I went really high. For just one moment I felt like I was on top of the world, and my heart started racing, and the amount of adrenaline inside of me shot sky high, just like me.

Then I landed, sad it was over, but ready for the next jump. Everyone had to have turns though, so my friends Kristen and Shelly went next. My other friend Jessica just watched. Then it was my turn again.

Some voice in my head warned me against it. Kelly’s mom had told us before she went inside that we were not to jump off the deck. If we were going to jump on the trampoline, we would have to do it properly...but, she wasn’t looking. And it was fun. I had to jump again, at least one more time.

This time I counted. “One, two, three, go!” We jumped and landed cross-legged on the trampoline. This time, though, I knew something was wrong.

When I landed and Kelly landed, I felt an extremely strong force propel me up in the air. It was stronger than any other time I had landed, and when I looked ahead of me and saw I was even with the top of Kelly’s roof, I knew for sure this was not good.

I looked down as I headed that way, and could see that they all knew it too. I shouldn’t have gone that high because I wasn’t coming down in the exact same spot; I was moving sideways.

As I flew down, I could see the ground getting nearer and nearer. I was extremely close to the rail of the deck, and I was afraid I might land on it. Instead, I fell between the small gap between the trampoline and the deck, smacking my head on the railing on my way down. I landed cross-legged on the ground. It had all happened so fast that I hadn’t even had time to uncross my legs.

The very second that I hit the ground I started crying. My friends ran over to me to make sure I was still alive, and then Kelly ran inside and got her mom. She came out and asked what had happened. I wasn’t able to tell her, so Kristen did. I couldn’t do anything except cry. A pain and numbness flowed through me at the same time, and I was positive that I was paralyzed.

Kelly’s mom ran in the house to call my dad. Through the panic and confusion I was feeling, along with the pain, I never realized that I got up and walked to the steps of their deck to sit down. Once I got there, I just put my head in my hands and cried because it hurt so bad, and I didn’t want to be paralyzed. I was only eleven, and I had so much life ahead of me. Now I was going to have to spend the rest of it in a wheelchair.

My dad drove up in his truck. Kelly’s mom came back out and they both came to me. I wasn’t able to find the strength to move because of pain and worry, so my dad carried me out to the truck and took me home. I didn’t see my friends for a week.

The next day I had to go the hospital because I couldn’t walk, or move at all for that matter. Every time I tried, pain would shoot up my back and I would cry. It even hurt to have my parents carry me, and it was also embarrassing. So I had to ride in a wheelchair, and I was worried.

I figured the doctor was going to say that I’d never be able to walk again. I’d never be able to play basketball with my friends. I’d be stuck in a cursed wheelchair forever. I got to sit and worry for two hours in the ER.

Once I got in, the doctor wanted a “sample” to make sure my kidneys hadn’t been damaged. I was angry. I knew it had been coming, but even at eleven it’s embarrassing when you can’t use the bathroom on your own.

After that humiliating experience, they wanted x-rays. It was no big deal really, but I was scared. I had never had an x-ray before, and I heard they could give you cancer. My parents weren’t allowed to be in the room with me because they couldn’t get exposed to the x-rays. I didn’t understand how I could, and they couldn’t.

The doctor’s made me mad again, because they wanted me to lie flat on the table when they took the x-rays. I couldn’t. I had to have my legs bent. So they had a nurse come in there and hold my legs down as far as I could stand it while they took them. At the time I was feeling more pain than usual because they had to find how much I could stand before they knew how far to push them down. It was like some sort of torture session.

They kept telling me to relax but I had to keep my teeth gritted because I would cry if I didn’t. All I could feel was pain, and even my anger was engulfed by that. They were trying to be nice, and they weren’t trying to hurt me, but it sure felt like it.

Once the torture was through, we sat and waited for another half an hour while they looked at the x-rays. I was so relieved when they told me I had just sprained my back and not paralyzed myself. But it was still a week before I could walk again, and those days were long and monotonous since all I could do was watch tv.

I have jumped on trampolines since then, but never jumped off a deck. And I don’t get enjoyment out of them anymore. I don’t think I’ll ever enjoy trampolines again.

03/98