The Scar

I was naïve, and so I trusted it. I was too young to see the instability of the structure. It was meant for climbing, so I did just that. It was only in the future that I would realize why I fell. This climbing structure was built for my preschool a long time ago and was quite old. The wooden platform at the top of the structure was warped and had not been bolted down like it should have been. When I reached the top, swoosh, there went the board out from underneath me. The place where I stepped collapsed. I fell straight through the hole that I created with my step, scraping my head on the way down. I remember the blood dripping down from my forehead and onto my shirt as a teacher escorted me back inside to the classroom. After some heavy duty paper-toweling, my parents and the teachers determined I would not need stitches. To this day, I still have a scar from it. It is a diagonal scar that my family likes to call my “Harry Potter scar” because of its placement and shape. It is much less prominent today than it used to be, but that does not mean my memory of it is.