Pain Magnet

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic

A memoir assignment I wrote for class about being hit by a car.

Submitted: August 31, 2018

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Submitted: August 31, 2018



I had felt a lot of pain in my twenty-three years, but this was on a new level. It was a good day, a Saturday to be exact. Finally, I was off work and headed back to campus and that’s when it hit me, he hit me. It was broad daylight, but he didn’t see me coming, I’m sure he just wasn’t paying attention. There I was waiting to ride Lullah, my bicycle, across the street and as soon as I had the chance to go. SHIT! I was on the ground and my bike was on top of my throbbing legs. No time to scream in pain, it was crippling, and all happened so fast. As he helped me up and helped me rearrange my handle bars all I could think to say is I’m fine as he looked around frantically like he was being followed. I was standing there looking dumb founded as he asked me if there was anything that I needed. I didn’t know, I was only thinking of the numbness of my legs and the tears begging to pour out of my eyes.

We moved over to the Boost Mobile parking lot and out of the street. We exchanged names and numbers. He said “Thank God you’re not crazy. I’ll pay you back somehow, do you want a pizza?” He worked for Papa Johns. I just want to know how he thought a pizza was going to comfort me.

On my travel home it was complicated. I couldn’t walk because it was too painful, so I decided to try and ride my bike; which I didn’t notice was completely wrecked until he left. Trying to ride on a bike whose left pedal is bent upwards and front tire is wobbling is difficult. I put my music on and got on. My left foot would slip off every time I moved, and the front tire would rotate every inch. I could see the people of the cars as I pass looking at me in confusion. I was confused too. Why couldn’t I just get home and lay down after a long day of work?

The first thing I did when I got home was call my mom. “Bonita what do you mean you got hit? Did you call the police? Why did you leave the scene? Bonita you need to stop crying and go to the hospital! Bonita! Go to the hospital and call me back.” I asked my roommate to take me. I held back tears all the way until I got inside the apartment and mustard up the courage to call my mom, I expected compassion, she did nothing but fuss.

On the way to the hospital I text my girlfriend and she called. I could tell she was upset. The distinction in her voice made it obvious. Her mom took the phone and asked me if I got the man’s insurance information. I’m beyond frustrated because I can barely feel my legs and I keep getting fussed at. I said no and told them that I would go by his job and get it. When I get there, I find out that he told his boss that he had the green light and I went out in the way… There is no traffic light there, just a stop sign. We waited almost two hours for him to come back from deliveries so that I could get a police report filed. Lesson learned when you get hit don’t trust anyone, just call the police.

While sitting in the hospital room waiting for the x-rays to come back I thought. I must be a pain magnet. Bad things continue to happen to me no matter how good of a person I am. No matter what it is I do pain finds me. Since the age of nine I’ve been wondering why pain always finds me. I felt like I had a “Pain Wanted” sign attached to my back. Who am I? I am the pain that I carry. The pain that I’ve been carrying for going on fifteen years.

Pain changes people and at multiple points in my life it changed me. This pain that is within me, the pain that is me is searching for relief. As the pain in my legs continues so does the pain on the inside as I try to recover from a life of pain. So, who am I really? I am a survivor of pain. There have been multiple times when I tried to take my life because the pain was unbearable. There have been self-inflicted scars because that pain took away the previous. But through all the pain I did everything I could to keep fighting and remain strong all on my own. This pain is what has made me the person I am today I am every inch of the pain that I have ever felt. I am Bonita Aaron an overcomer of pain.

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