“Dad!” I yelled through the door, “We’re going outside to play flashlight tag!”
“Be careful!” My mom shouted through the door.
What could possibly go wrong from an innocent game, I wondered to myself about what my mother had said. That was how it all started. The first time I ever got stitches was just because we decided to play a game of flashlight tag in the pitch blackness of Halloween night, 2015. That night is how I learned a valuable life lesson, never assume anything because it could have negative consequences.
Shouts of “Yes!” or of “Dangit!” could be heard drifting through the house as the 8 of us finished our board game. We all sat on the couch in the basement staring at nothing in particular as the room grew silent.
“Well, now what?” someone sighed, “Great, now we don't have anything to do.”
The room stayed quiet as everyone pondered what new activity we could use to temporarily cure our boredom. An idea popped into my head as I looked out the sliding glass door, seeing nothing but darkness, as if the world around us were swallowed up.
“How about flashlight tag?” I asked, drawing everyone's attention to me.
It took a little convincing, as the outside world on this particular night was cold, dark, and wet, but eventually all of us were standing in the garage of my house, holding our flashlight’s in our hands. Someone volunteered to go first and the rest of us ran to find a hiding spot like our lives depended on it.
A short while later, I was hiding by myself behind the pool when I saw lights run by. I silenced my breathing and crouched down, staying as still as possible. However, my efforts were in vain, I soon saw a light slowly creeping towards me. I made a split-second decision to run as fast as I could. I didn’t bother to look behind me, I knew that someone was following me at a close speed. I spotted another hider along the way, who burst into a run closely in front of me. We broke into the front yard of my house, the hider in front of me chose to go left up the hill, and I chose to go downhill- which would soon be my demise.
I looked behind me to see a blinding light, like the headlights of a car, going uphill to chase my fellow hider. I continued running, just in case they decided to follow me instead, until I reached the trees, which I could run through to get to a trail near the garden. As I was running, I happened to spot the cement deer that had been passed on from my great-grandfather and put in the trees that I was sprinting towards. As I closed the distance between me and the trees, I decided I would run between the two trees where the deer was and run by it. I had heard that in these situations time slows down but for me it just seemed to double in speed. As I ran by the deer I leaned slightly towards it to make a turn, assuming I wouldn’t hit it... I was dead wrong.
I hit the antler of the deer dead on, right above my eyebrow. Surprisingly, I kept my balance and didn’t fall. My hand immediately went to my head to feel for a mark. I felt an indentation above my eyebrow, and not a second later I felt warm blood rush over my hand and down my face, blocking my vision in one eye. I was dazed and couldn’t think straight, my only thought was to get inside immediately.
As I walked by other people playing, the only thing I could bring myself to say was, “I’m bleeding bad.” Over and over I said it, like a broken record. Around that point I realized that I was experiencing the worst headache I had ever felt in my life.
I walked through the door of my house; it took a minute before someone noticed that my head was bleeding. They had me sit down at the table. My dad came to see what was going on and my mom did soon after. I learned later that one of my uncles thought when I came in that the blood was apart of my costume that he hadn’t noticed before. Someone came over to me with an icepack and another person with a roll of paper towels. I didn’t really comprehend what had happened and was still in shock. I periodically answered “No, not really” whenever someone asked me if I was alright, which seemed like it happened every couple seconds. The cold ice on my head seemed to be hurting it more than it already did but I knew I had to keep it pressed.
“Yeah, that’s gonna need stitches.” My dad said as I sat there, still leaning on my icepack.
My mom agreed with him and we walked out into the garage for him to take me to the emergency room. We got in the car and headed off to get stitches.
The next morning I walked outside at about 7:30 with my jacket on to look at the deer, still sitting in the same place that night as it is today. You could hardly tell anything happened, there wasn't even any blood anywhere. The deer’s antler, however, didn’t fare so well. It had become loose in its socket and was beginning to fall out. I smiled to myself as I thought back about what had happened. It wasn’t all bad. I’ve always wanted a scar, I thought to myself. I also learned an extremely important life lesson: never assume anything. Like when I assumed nothing bad would happen when my mom told us to be careful, or when I assumed that my head was clear of the deer’s antler. I was wrong in both of those cases and that is why never again since that day have I ever assumed anything to be right or wrong. Even if you think you know that you’re right, there will always be a chance that you’re wrong, and when that chance becomes a reality, there will always be some consequences.