I was 16 when I got my first bicycle. My parents were concerned about me not being physically fit and decided to buy me a bicycle. It was an ordinary bicycle that everyone else had, at least that was what I thought, at first. My parents wanted me to test out the bicycle to see if I would gained any interest while strolling around the neighborhood. I came outside, grabbed the bicycle and hopped on the bicycle seat, and started pedaling. At first I didn’t want to go on a stroll nor try out the bicycle but after a minute or so, I was curious about how it would feel like if I was riding the bicycle at night.
The birds were flying and the sun was setting down. The street lamp flickered on as everything else was dying down. Pedalling to the nearest bus station took 15 minutes. I got out of the bicycle and rested my hands on the railing while staring at the stars that was shining brightly.
I decided to check the bicycle by strolling around the neighborhood but the problem was, I have never rode a bicycle before. But being a stubborn person I was, I didn’t think twice about being careful and rode on my bicycle. Every time I got on, I fell back down. The street lights which were hope to me started fading in the darkness making me lose hope and give in as well. Feeling down and displeased with the process I made, I tried to reassure myself that there is always tomorrow but that didn’t keep my motivation on learning, away. I stood back up, trying again for the last time, my legs were shaking uncontrollably as fear overtook me. With bruises and open cuts all around my legs, I went closer to the bicycle and put my feet on the paddle. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and started paddling, waiting for an impact that never came.
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