It’s my senior year. Senior year; the time to enjoy spending time with friends and slack off. I have worked my butt off, taking every advanced course I could my high school career. When I found out that I only needed a .5 PE credit and another semester of Fine Arts, I requested all my core classes, and those two requirements. I still had a lot of wholes in my schedule, so I decided to fill them with study halls, and creative writing. I thought creative writing was just going to be a nice relaxer for me, but it has allowed me to explore my creative style, and I absolutely love it. We wrote our first memoir, and I believe it is my best piece of writing yet.

“The heat was rising, sweat dripped down my dad’s brow. Sweat pooled on the small of my back. My goal of the day: learn how to ride a bike.

My dad pushed me down the sidewalk, while I peddled my new pink princess bike I had gotten six months ago for my birthday. The flowered spindles were turning as I sped up; I yelled at my dad to let go of the back of the seat. As he let go I went about a foot, and crashed hard onto the sidewalk. The rough cement scrapped my knee leaving a strawberry red circle.

‘Are you okay?’ My dad asked as he ran up beside me.

‘I am fine!’ I yelled back as I picked myself off and brushed off the dirt. So we tried it again.

Time after time I would tell my dad to let go, but over and over again I fell off, leaving my skin bruised and sore. I threw down my bike with a sullen look on my face.

‘Let’s give it one last go,’ my dad said to me.

‘Fine, but then that’s it! I’ll be done with a bike if I can’t get it this try!’ I yelled angrily back at him.

My father pushed me slowly, then sped up little by little until I took a leap of faith and told him to let go. He did, I kept speeding down the road at the speed of light. The sweat now felt cool on my skin from the brushing air. Sandy- blonde hair whipped in my face, leaving a slight stinging sensation. Three houses down, now four; I had finally rode the bike without help, and without falling off! I circled around in the driveway of a tan house with crisp white trim. I made my way back to my house.

‘You did it!’ My dad greeted me with a huge bear-hug and a kiss on the cheek. His blue eyes showed how proud he was of me. His scruffy beard scratched the side of my face.

‘I did it! I did it!’ I screamed on the top of my lungs because I still couldn’t believe it. The shock wore off and then continued, ‘Hey, you scratched me!’ We both laughed.

‘Do you want some celebratory ice cream?’ He asked.

‘From Sonic? You know I do!’ I responded.

After that day of tribulations, I had no problem riding a bike. I would race with my friends like we were cars. We zoomed through the streets of the neighborhood, stopping at the stop signs like they were the turning lights on the busy streets. We made pretended that our houses were gas stations.  We had car washes and parking spots. Our bikes were our lives, we would ride sunup to sundown; I was the queen of the bike!

From that day I learned that you can’t give up on anything. No matter how hard something gets, you have to persevere because in the end, it is worth it. I would have never felt the pride in myself that I did that day if I had stopped when I first fell down. I wouldn’t have achieved my goal, if it weren’t for my dad’s guiding words that helped to try just one more time. Always keep going, you never know when you’ll achieve your goal.”