“A party? Yay, wooooohoooo a party,” I screamed. My mom had just broken the news about my brother’s graduation party. It was going to be great! Good food, all my brother and my friends, and best of all tag. The heavenly game for first and second graders like brother, Koby, and myself.

We pulled up to the house where the party was being held. We were trying to find a non-existant parking space. We finally found one about a few blocks away. We walked towards the party, as we neared the sound grew louder, and louder, until we reached the house. Music was playing, people where laughing all was well. I decided to go hang out with my friends before dinner then I could eat and have a nice big game of tag. I went over to some kids from my class they apparently were interested in some sort of amazing item, because when they said hello it was in a sort of a daze.

“Hey guys. What are you guys doing?” I asked suspiciously.

“Look over there.” I looked. Now I understood what they where talking about, it was a swing. This was no normal everyday swing; this was an amazing super duper swing. The swing was perfectly situated for somebody to climb up on the top of the plastic playhouse, and jump off sitting on the swing this would propel you to at least six to seven feet high. It looked amazing I would ride it all night until we could finally play tag. I saw the first kid go on the swing. They looked so happy, so I decided to join in the line. It was finally time, I sat on the swing and on the count of three I lifted my feet off the playhouse. I went flying through the air, I felt like a bird that had just learned to fly. I flew back and forth swinging a bit less each time, I wanted to let go of the swing and flap my imaginary wings to go higher again, but my hands where glued to the swings chain. My feet found the ground; I got up and passed the swing to the next person in line.
I went to the end of the line for at least the seventh time. I was starting to feel a little hungry, so I decided to grab myself a hot dog. As I was eating my hot dog I began to hear people talk about game of tag. I ate the rest of my food quickly before joining the game.
“I’m it!” A kid called, which meant he was the tagger. Everyone scattered around the yard, except the few people who decided to stay on the swing. I ran to the plastic playhouse ran inside, I could hear the people standing on the roof to go on the swing. I was proud of myself for being so clever with this hiding spot. A few minutes had passed; it seemed like forever. There was only one bad part of this brilliant hiding place. No one would find me, so I decided the logically that I would run out and find a place that people might try to get me. As I stepped out the door of the plastic house the tagger spotted me and began to run towards me from behind. I did the first thing that came to my mind. Curve your run! It would make the tagger run farther to get me. I started at full speed around the corner of the playhouse, not noticing the swing coming full speed towards me. I kept running, the swing kept going; the girl on the swing obviously knew what was coming next. I didn’t, she screamed, but before I knew at all what was happening. Bam! I fell to the ground not knowing what had happened. I held my shoulder. It hurt like crazy, like if someone punched you really hard. Although it was painful, it healed rather fast. I was back in the game in the next five minutes, still stunned by the collision.
I kept playing, running from my friend who was it. I was so caught up in the game, I ran around the tree again as a kid in my brother’s class. Unfortunately he didn’t notice that he was headed strait towards me at full speed. Bam! I couldn’t believe this could happen for the second time as I fell to the ground. My shoulder felt an immense pain that kept growing. I tried to yell as loud as I could but the pain seemed to draw my voice back into just sobs. Kids started surrounding me, the person on the swing ran into the house to grab my parents. I clutched my shoulder, painful tears rolling and staining my cheeks. My parents ran up not knowing what to do with their sobbing child. Thankfully one of the parents at the party happened to be a children’s bone doctor. He ran up and immediately started looking at my arm. He felt my collarbone and closed his eyes and just thought. The pain came back sharper as soon as he touched it, I yelped.
“ I’m afraid your daughters collarbone is cracked,” he said, not so enthusiastically. I dropped my head onto the ground, I didn’t know if that meant I had to wear a cast. He spoke again, “The good news is that it will heal rather quickly, the bad news is there isn’t anything you can do about it. The only thing you can do is wear a sling, but for now I would just lay down and comfort it.”
We walked over to the car. My dad carrying me in his arms, my mom opened the car door as my dad put me in. I put my head on my mom’s legs and though a thought I would never forget. This went from the best party to the worst in a total of five minutes.