Memoir
29
Broken Tooth
It was Independence Day weekend. I was running as the summer breeze lazily rolled over our summer camp. The fragrance of freshly cut grass filled my nose. I heard the drumming footsteps of the tagger closing on me from behind. I was frightened, and naturally my tempo quickened. Unfortunately, only later did I realize that I was going to collide with my friend, Jason. By that time, it was already too late.
I ran straight into him, hitting my tooth against his skull. We both hurtled toward the brick paved sidewalk, startled. Everything seemingly froze since the second we collided, and suddenly started up again as I struck the ground. The bricks felt cold under my sweaty hands, and the only sound that filled my ears was the noisy buzz of the cicadas. My mouth was full of the metallic taste of blood.
Shortly after, I heard yelling and screaming as people turn their attention to us. Jason, who quickly recovered from the shock and minor injury, urgently searched around for our counselor while I sat on the ground, mentally paralyzed from the accident. I soon realized that one of my front teeth was in half. Blood from my lip trickled down my chin and dripped onto the ground like a leaky faucet.
My friends came back with our counselor, Henry. He was shocked by the amount of blood that was on my hands, as if a red blanket had enveloped them. Jason and Henry rapidly escorted me to the health office. My parents were contacted and I was soon sent off to the emergency room of the local hospital. While riding in the sleek, black car the nurse owned, I was piling up with regret for losing a tooth for such a childish reason. What was I thinking!
It felt like five hours flew by before I was attended to. The doctor casually told me that I would be fine and just needed to go to my dentist so he could attend to my tooth. All I needed to do was to find the other half of it!
When I returned to the camp, all my friends were waiting for me, as well as my parents. As soon as they saw me, relief swept across their faces. I hastily told them my plan. After for what felt like a few seconds, one of my friends leaped up with excitement, holding a small and white object between his skinny fingers. I quickly thanked him, and dropped the broken tooth into a cup of milk. Then, my parents rushed me to our dentist.
At the dentist’s office, my tooth was sanitized and secured back on. It remains since then, the weak tooth that I cannot use to bite or chew hard food. My life was completely changed by this incident. After the operation was done, I was driven back to my summer camp just in time to see the beautiful fireworks for the Fourth of July.
For once, I learned that sometimes a horrible fate, like being tagged, could lead to something unequivocally better, like avoiding a collision that would change my life.
-ERIC X