My legs spun in harmony with each other. They whizzed around and around while the rest of me teetered. This balance thing wasn’t proving to be easy, but I was staying upright. I was moving fast enough for a little wind resistance to blow my hair around. I was loving the freedom and the speed.

“Are you ready for me to let go?”

My dad was moving the fastest I believe I had ever seen him run. His left hand was planted on the back of my seat and his right hand grasped my handlebar. He was holding me up but I was choosing the speed. It turned out to be too much for him because without any indication from me that I was ready, he stopped running.

I rocked back and forth. I pedaled faster because I thought that would help me stay upright. I watched my knees bob up and down. The rhythm was kind of fascinating until I hit the gutter and one of them popped up and hit me in the cheek while the rest of me tumbled to the ground. I was pissed.

“Jake! Are you alright?”

Still winded from the half-block sprint he had just recently completed, my father jogged over to make sure I wasn’t going to die. Immediately, he could tell I was angry.

“You weren’t paying attention to the road! Get back on and try again!”

He started running, I started pedaling, he stopped and I watched the asphalt in front of me. I leaned forward so I could see right in front of my tire. Last time, my attention was behind it and look what happened. I was still incredibly unsteady and watching the blur of small pebbles and lines in the road. I kept my focus and started to get excited when I realized that I wasn’t wrecking.

“Jake! Stop!”

The terror in my Dad’s voice caused me look up with enough time to swear right before I collided with the neighbor’s brown Ford. My face smacked the tailgate, then my bike and I landed on the pavement in a pile of scrapes and outrage. Even at a young age, I muttered the words my parents used when they were angry.

“Pick a point, way ahead of you Jake. That will give you time to plan and to turn and brake if you need to.”

I straddled my red bmx, with white knuckles wrapped around the handlebars and went through the launching process once more. This time, I rode steadier. I kept my head up and my eyes glared at the road ahead of me. I had to conquer my street. I couldn’t crash because it hurt like hell. I just had to keep my eyes on the road ahead of me.


It’s the first time I’ve written for the Blog Carnival in a while. This week’s theme is “Future”. Check out the other amazing writers and leave them some comment love! Thanks to Peter Pollock for hosting!