Lea and I trample down the metal stairs to the backyard. “Wow, your swing set is AMAZING!” I exclaim. I couldn’t believe that a huge swing set could fit into a tiny backyard.

“Let’s go on this one,” Lea points to a double seat swing. “That is the best one. We can talk and swing.”

“Okay, let’s go!” I exclaim and jump onto one of the seats.

“Coming,” Lea trots behind me. We rock ourselves higher and higher until I notice that the swing set is rocking itself.

“Lea, do you think that anyone would be able to stand on the edge of the swing?”

“Yes, I do, but my mommy says that it’s too dangerous,” Lea replies.

“I want to try it. I want to do it,” I announce and stand up.

“NO WAY! I am not going to let my best friend do this!” Lea exclaims, surprised that I am going to do such a crazy stunt. “My mommy says that you can get killed if you fall off. It’s too dangerous!” What is so dangerous about standing on the edge of the swing? I wonder. I stand on the wooden swing all the time at my house on the fifty some year-old swing that my dad used when he was a kid.

“I want to do it, Lea. I do it all the time at home.” I take a step back and climb to the edge of the swing. The first few swings are earth shattering scary. I feel like I am on top of the tallest building looking down. This feeling went away. I start to like it and encourage myself to go on.
“Come on, Lea. It feels like you are on top of the world!” I laugh. “Try it. It’s super fun!”
“No way. I’m listening to my mommy and not doing it,” Lea explains.
“Okay then, suit yourself,” I say. My hands start to sweat as I grip more tightly. Once my hands get tired, I decide to sit down. I let go slightly of the metal bars, and my hands slip off. “AH!” I scream as I fall head first onto the muddy grass.
BLACKOUT.
“Marley, Marley. Wake up,” I hear Lea whispering as she softly shakes me awake. “Mommy, Marley is awake.”
“Okay, Donna, see you later.” Lea’s mom hangs up the phone. “Oh my, that’s a relief. Marley, your mommy is going to pick you up.”
“Why?” I groan.
“You were unconscious for ten minutes,” Lea’s mom replies. I then remembered that my hands were sweaty when I fell.
“Where am I?” My mind is going crazy. Is this a dream? a nightmare? or really happening?
“You are at my house,” Lea exclaims sitting next to me on the plush, black sofa. Okay, this is a nightmare in real life, I thought.
The doorbell chimes. “I’ll get it, Lea. You can wait with Marley okay?” Lea’s mom whispers, “Hi Donna, Marley is lying on the sofa.”
“Thanks again for calling me,” my mom replies. “Oh my, that is a big bump. How are you feeling, Marley?”
“I feel sick, Mom.” I squeeze out. “I want to go home.” All I want to do is go to bed.
“I am bringing you home now, okay? You can lie down in the car.”
“Okay,” I whisper, and I limp over to our tiny gray BMW, and climb into the back seat. Then I wonder to myself, “Was that worth the bump?” Absolutely! I lay down and fall fast asleep.