On May twelfth of every year we celebrate International Nurses day, a day in the memory of Florence Nightingale. I consider this day as too easily ignored. Not only because Florence was an amazing woman and nurse but because nurses all around the world put in such delicate dedicated work. Both men and woman are nurses, it is pensive that the career is appeared at as to be an only female profession. I grew up in a home with a father becoming a nurse. It was rugged on the whole family. Every night was a late night and we never saw much of him. I saw how much work and time he spent at school. We all watched the work beat him down. And to believe that every doctor and nurse goes through this I have developed a new respect. I didn’t know of this day until I came upon this project.

I would like to go to Germany. Or in the middle of the Ocean, somewhere where the world is actually reverse reality. Driving down the roads, what I see is not appealing to my eyes. Everything here is waste, something we have made and ruined. The original world is hidden beneath filth. Everyday hour and second it is getting worse. I wish there was a way to make our world healthy and free again.

When I was little I would run around the house in little red underpants and pretend to be Moglie from “The Jungle Book.” Ever since then the color red has reeled me in. You can’t ignore red like you can white or grey. Color has always been a proud thing to me. Different colors delineate contrasting personalities and occasions. You probably wouldn’t wear red to a funeral, you may wear black. However black is not usually worn at a wedding. Red is seen in many different places.    

Red converse, way better than just the average color of shoe. 

When I saw this it just made me smile. 

Most flowers are pink or purple, doesn’t a red flower make you want to display it to the world?

White. White beneath you, lights above you, walls surrounding you. You’re bounded by a blank page, engaging your imagination. Whether it is winter, or the middle of June, you can’t tell. Your in a diverse world, your mentality has complete freedom. You are in a surreal reality.

Figure skating- a form of competitive skating in which skaters trace patterns on the ice and perform spins, jumps, and other maneuvers. The dictionary doesn’t mention however that a sport so straightforward can easily become a way of existence for some, a way of breathing, or keeping one sane. It’s more complex than simple, actually.

Like any other day, I ambled into the arena dragging my bag along behind me. Once my skates were fastened beneath my feet, I walked out to the ice, trying to stall time. My blades hit the ice, carrying me across the frost. Turning backwards and flying fast, I did my regular warm ups. The coaches were not there this day, an irregular event, it was us kids, and I could feel the mischievous spirit all around. You see, normally, we are there to work, work until we bleed. The coaches probably have higher hopes for us than we do ourselves. Doing this sport, you realize it is not fun and games, it work, but it will pay off. This day, was, uncommon. With no adult eyes, we could socialize. We learned our lesson that day; however it was unfortunate I was the lucky one who discovered the lesson for all of us.

Being teenagers, misbehaving was the greatest fraction of our day. The first thing I sought after doing was maneuvers above my level and capability. One thing the coaches told us NOT to do. “You will get hurt” they always claimed. But “what do they know” I always said to myself. I don’t think any kids listen to adults anyways. With everyone settled in a line we did jumps we knew we shouldn’t be doing. My turn was up, being the highest level skater present at the time, my dared jump was a double axel. I had been doing those off the ice for years, no sweat; I didn’t have a worry crossing my mind. I warmed up with some axels, rotating, and checking out. Everything flowed smoothly, so I didn’t doubt the double.

I arrived into the jump exact, my skates gliding across the ice, counting the rhythm in my head. I bounded into the air, gaining height and rotation, I pulled in tighter than I ever had, the problem was when to check out, most people don’t make enough rotations, I made too many. I came down without checking out, my legs still crossed. I landed with crack. My friends yelled, I lifted my eyes to see my ankle, no blood, just pain, sharp distinct pain. I endeavored screaming but no sound would break out of my throat, no tears would escape my eyes. I was carried into the lobby, and laid down on a bench. By then sharp yells fled from my mouth. My ankle hurt so bad, I could feel it swelling inside of my skate. My mother was requested to take me to the hospital. By that time the coach that had been in her office serenely inquired what had happened. We all looked at each other, as I replied “Just an impractical fall.” And I was rushed to the emergency room.

So now when the coaches instruct me to do my double axel, a rush of adrenalin is poured into my heart. And my blades shake as I take off. I spent a long time off the ice for that oversight, so now I pronounce to myself “adults really do know what they are talking about…” “Most of the time.”