i was a Grade 1 pupil, 6 years old, still fragile, young and innocent.
Whenever i'd go to school, i'd have a chaperone, my Aunt.
It was a very sunny morning, i was anxious enough to go to school, so me & my Aunt walked together to school.
She held my hand like she never wanted to let go...to little too tight...i snapped off...
i was pissed i disliked the fact that my other classmates get to cross the road without anybody holding their fragile little hands.
We stood near the road that we cross to be able to get to my school.
Then I saw my classmate who was with nobody else but herself...
I reflected...
why does she get to go to school, cross the road without a chaperone while me...tch!
I got insecure so I wanted her to let go of my hand...
like an adult and like my classmate, I looked at both ends of the road, see if there were vehicles
and if it's a perfect chance to cross the road.
And i did i made sure...
i crossed the street...
all by myself...
i wanted to prove that i could handle the situation
unfortunately...
it was a little too early...
a motorcycle hit me, dragged me, left me unconscious beside the yellow lines of the road.
I was sure about the timing! i checked!
guess that i was too impatient thinking that i could do it on my own....
Luckily, our school was just beside the church and our priest's car was just in front of the church
and the priest just came out of the church...
he ran towards us, asked for more help, they were in a frenzy.
What's more frightening was the fact that i could see everything taking place...
i could see myself, my body, them...trembling in fear.
They hurried to get me into his car so i could be brought to a nearby hospital...
my soul...
i was trying to go back into my own body...
everything was hazy...
but i saw myself...
shaking, trembling, my eyes were white, i was pale...
i was dying.
After a few hours of unconsciousness, i woke up, still everything was hazy and i felt very very weak,
like very weak i could not open my eyes wide,
weak that i could barely utter a word...
it felt like everything that had just taken place was a very awful dream...
but it was not.
I was laid on a bed, helplessly weak with all the other sick patients...
i saw my mother standing right beside a doctor and my aunt, she was crying.
The next day, i woke up at the same place the same bed, the same feeling...
next thing i know, they would not let me eat solid foods, i got thinner and thinner,
there was a needle in pricked in my wrist connecting a pipe and a bag.
day by day i was toured inside the hospital in a wheelchair.
I felt terrible.
I felt regret.
I regretted that i had urged following my own wants not thinking about what might happen,careless.
Weeks and days later i was able to recover, did no longer use a wheelchair and was no longer banned in eating solid foods...
and the couple who had me hit visited and gave their apologies and helped us in paying the bills and gave us cans and bottles of softdrinks lots of it
(maybe they worked in a softdrink factory)
We were fortunate enough to not have a hit and run scenario.
They were good people i say.
And it's all thanks to them now because if not, i would not have been able to share this experience to y'all.
"Everything happens for a reason" though at times its so hard to figure out what reason there is to accept.
Most especially if the scenario that had happened was hard to accept
sometimes these kinds of experiences are like "blessings in disguise"
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