Every weekend my mother, my best friend, and I go to my uncle’s hunting camp in Mississippi. We always have lots of fun. Just like on any other day at the camp, Jessica and I went riding down all the trails. We know pretty much every trail this camp has. Anyway, after riding for a little while we decide to go back to the camp. The three-wheeler that we are on had been acting up so we decided we should go slowly. Everything after this point went by pretty fast.

One minute I was going around a sharp turn and the next I was on the ground with the three-wheeler on top of me, and Jessica was shaking me awake. She says that I wasn’t out long but that I was unconscious. I’m not sure, but I think I might have hit a tree. We were about three inches away from hitting a huge tree, that could have probably killed us. I thought my leg was broken because I could not move it. Jessica then pointed out that the three-wheeler was leaking gas everywhere. I thought we were going to blow up and die. I don’t know where it came from, but it suddenly felt like I had super strength. I quickly pushed the three-wheeler up and off of myself, because Jessica couldn’t lift it. I then lifted myself up, using the tree, and tried to walk. I couldn’t. After about ten minutes, I decided to try again. We were stuck in the middle of the woods and it was starting to get dark. If the three-wheeler was broken, it was atleast a two-hour walk, and there was no way I was walking in the woods at night.

Somehow, I started walking. My leg was killing but I was moving. Jessica and I walked for about thirty minutes and then decided to turn back. Something told us the three-wheeler wasn’t broken and we could get home faster if we went back and got on it. We walked back, and pulled it out of the woods with our newfound “superstrength.” We were right, it was working. Although we were scared and the three-wheeler still wasn’t working right, we made it back to the camp. Dirty, clothes torn, and scratched up and bleeding, we walked inside where everyone else was. My mom, uncle, and cousin helped us get cleaned up. Thank God, my leg was not broken, just badly hurt. That night we went home to Louisiana to get ready for our first day of 8th grade, the next day.