Many Things Were Broken That Night (A True, Personal Story)
11:45 PM. Early January. Tobogganing hill. Next to the Dulude Skating Arena. Ottawa, Ontario, Canada. Seems like nothing too spectacular could happen on such a cold night of a cold season, right? That's what I thought as I climbed up that giant, glistening hill of snow that overlooked the majority of the neighbourhoods in my area. I could hear the busy city sounds that harmonized with the crunches beneath my feet as heaving breaths escaped my mouth. I could already see the very top of the hill, even if my only light source was the large, full moon that hung above, seeming to peer down at me with watchful eyes as I trudged my way closer. Once I finally reached the barren top, where the air seemed a lot thinner than before, I remember the smile I bore as I took in the beautiful scenery of the city line at the horizon. The city lights were scattered around beyond the bordering fences, looking like stars that glimmered and gleamed in different colours; the gently lit sky was still a deep shade of dark blue, contrasting the colour of the pale, cold whiteness of the snow that covered the entirety of the ground throughout the place I called home. I made sure I could still see the shadows of my mother and brother at the bottom of where I stood, just so I could still have that sense of security as I took in a deep breath and placed my toboggan down to face a pathway I was familiar with. It was the pathway I was planning to take that very night- until my eyes spotted it… Earlier on that day, I remember how big of a deal my mom made about me not riding down any of the paths towards the ski jumps, practically forcing me to promise her I would never consider committing to such a challenge. At that moment, I did not think of the situation as much of a warning sign- I thought it was just another one of my mom's parenting rants fueled by her sense of protection and fear of me having fun (I was a child when this happened, so obviously all adults wanted to make things boring to me). Of course, because of these initial thoughts and my naive sense of the world, how could I have ever known that my decision to break that promise the very night I had made it would end up with me in one of the most fatal moments of my entire life? I remember, I finally managed to push myself forward with my large, chunky boots, feeling a rush as I travelled down the slippery path towards one of the largest jumps I could see. The wind was bitterly cold as it whipped against my cheeks, my heart pounding from both the adrenaline and from the heat of my puffy winter coat. All I could hear was the hissing of plastic moving against coarse ice and snow, along with the faint screams and cheers from my little brother. My eyes widened as I got closer and closer towards the heap before me, my head pulling me towards the excitement as much as my body was, and nothing in my gut was telling me to do anything otherwise. That is, until the last few seconds before I hit the jump. All of a sudden, I felt some wild instinct within me activate, practically screaming at me to quickly change my direction before it was too late. But as my legs hit the ground, trying with all my 12-year-old strength to stop the forces from carrying me on any further, all I could remember was the feeling of my stomach churning and my mind spinning with fear as I had to lift off… Then, I suddenly felt absolute nothingness. I slowly opened my eyes to find myself face down against the solid floor of snow and ice. My vision was spinning ever so slightly, yet I could still make out the dark silhouettes of my two family members. My brother ran as fast as he could towards me, his screams faint within my ears. As to my mother, well...I couldn't tell what she was thinking, doing, or even feeling at that very moment. All I could remember saying to her was “I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm sorry…” I'm sorry for breaking my brother's toboggan, I'm sorry for breaking my promise to her, I'm sorry for becoming a great inconvenience when we were supposed to be having a good time...and I'm especially sorry for breaking both of my arms.