Living With One Shoe

Chapter 2

I ordered a motorcycle to come and get me so I can go to a cinema; I planned to go somewhere quite far, because of a sum of reasons, not very important but I do have my own reasons to want to go to that significant cinema.

It took quite some time before the motorcyclist finally came. After a while, the motorcyclist arrived at the place where I teach public speaking, he asked my name and he asked me if I wanted to go to a theater to which I told him my name and answered 'yes' to his question. The driver nodded, confirming me that I was his client, I went to his motorcycle and asked him a few questions, nothing very significant to this story just some normal inquires, he gave me the passenger's helmet and then I wore it (of course safety first, never forget to wear your helmet before riding a motorcycle). After that, I hopped into the motorcycle. The engine starts and so starts my travel.

That day, the traffic was bad. Nothing out of the ordinary; the traffic here is always jammed. That's one of the reason I rode a motorcycle rather than a car, because it's always faster riding a motorcycle. I was still in the middle of my ride when this happened. The motorcycle that I rode went from side to side, slipping from one road to another, looking for a spot, looking for a way to avoid the traffic. Every motorcycle here is like that, everyone here is like that, just trying to avoid staying in one place, always moving, always wanting to go faster. Not denying, I'm like that as well, always trying to find the fast way, the instant way. My generation made me that way, a generation where everything is fast and we have to be just as fast or we will be one step behind everything.

I was deep in my own thoughts when the motorcycle I was riding bumped into another motorcycle, nothing big only a small thump, nothing much happened, I was thinking about what I wanted to do at the cinema, am I going to buy a popcorn? Should I buy shoes after that? Maybe I should watch two movies instead of one. I was going into my realm of thoughts again before I heard another thump, this time louder and had a much greater impact, and I, I could not save myself that time. An incident had already occurred.

(Now I'm going to tell you there is going to be blood in the next few paragraph, just wanted to remind you that)

A car bumped the motorcycle I was riding. The motorcycle started to wobble and it started to fell to the side. Everything happened in slow motion in my mind. I could picture everything clearly. The motorcycle falling to the side and me with my long legs saved myself from falling to the ground. My left foot had reach the ground before the motorcycle fell, but I could not save my other foot. But before I saw my foot and felt its stinging pain, I saw the driver falling to the side with his motorcycle, and after that I saw my foot.

My right foot was stuck between the wheel of the motorcycle and the rear hugger (is this right? I don't know, I don't know much about motorcycle, the only thing I knew was that my foot got stuck there). The gas was still on. And the wheel, the wheel was still spinning, and spinning, and spinning. And my foot was stuck there, (I hope you can imagine how painful that was), the spinning wheel hit my foot over and over again, the result after I took out my foot was, ¾ of my skin was gone and my heel was bleeding, however I did not know this before, after I pulled my foot from the spinning wheel, I went to the side of the road, limping. It hurt. It felt terrible, but for somewhat reason I was looking for my shoe that fell to the road when my foot got stuck (silly I know but it would have been weird to go somewhere with one shoe, plus I love that shoe).

While I was limping to the side I saw people already gathering there, a woman motioned me to go there and she asked for a chair for me to sit on, I went there. The woman grabbed my arm steadying me and asked me to sit down on a chair laid there for me. At that time, I had not look at my foot just yet, I was still in pain and I was looking at the condition of the road. People help the motorcyclist get up and help carry the motorcycle to the side. I was looking at my shoe that laid flat in the middle of the road. Then, I heard the voices of people whispering, talking about what they just saw, what they have witness, that's when I heard someone saying, "The foot is bleeding." That's when I looked down; I looked down and saw the wound for the first time. It was covered in dust and asphalt, most of the skin was gone, and the heel was bleeding, scarlet red blood mixed with dirt flowing from my foot, dripping to the ground, I saw a trail of dripping blood on the road, my blood. I saw the wound again, the blood gushing out of my foot like a river; I've never seen that kind of wound before. I've fallen before when I was a kid but never have I seen such fresh colored blood and the amount of blood that I lost that day. It wasn't dripping, it was flowing, quite fast if I do say so myself.

Just when I was thinking, perhaps still shock looking at what had happened, the woman who gave me a chair said "take the girl to the car, asked the people who hit her to drive her to the hospital, now." Some people helped me stand up, and I started limping to the car, two people got out of the car looking terribly worried. One of them opened the door and I step inside the car, I was genuinely worried that I would stain that car with my blood (stupid I know, but what can I say? blood is hard to clean you know). The car started to move, and that's when I realized. I was on the way to a different journey. I was not going to the cinema. I was going to the hospital.