Petter 
9/10/2001

          It was a regular Thursday in the middle of the summer holidays, and it was time for soccer practice. At 5:30 my two friends Daniel, and Victor came to my house, because we were going together. I took my bike out of the garage. We had a lot of time because the practice started at 6:30. We used to come early so we could play a bit by ourselves before the practice started. We had 7 kilometers to go and it usually took 45 minutes. 

          When we got there we saw the clubhouse and the big flag where it said “Billdals BK” which was the name of the club. When we got to the clubhouse we saw our coach and he welcomed us. Daniel, Victor and I got off our bikes and ran to the closest goal to practice shooting by ourselves. The practice lasted until 8:00 and when we had said goodbye to all our friends, we started the long ride home.

           When we had gone about half a kilometer, my plastic bag where I had my shoes went into my wheel and I fell from my bike on the ground. I had started to bleed from my knee, and when I looked at the scratch I saw lots of small and sharp stones in it. I got scared and called for my friends, who helped me up and asked how I was doing. I didn’t think I had much of a choice. My friends helped me up on my bike, and we continued the next 6.5 kilometers.
 Every time I put my foot down it hurt and I thought I would never get home. After a long time I finally got home and my mom washed the dirt off and took some smaller stones out. She put me in a warm bath. When I told her what happened she laughed and asked why I didn’t go back to the clubhouse so I could call her so she could come and get me. I felt really stupid because I didn’t do that, but I also felt happy because I was home so my mom could take care of me.