Thursday, September 9, 2010

The Time I Was Brave

When I was about seven or eight years old I was put into a situation where I had to be brave. The fear I felt on that day is still such a clear memory to me. I remember the sun's warmth on my body as it crept in our house through the small openings in our window's blinds. As I look back on that day I realize that it had to be sometime in the afternoon around 5:00 PM because both my parents had been home. However, they had decided to go shopping at the local market and since I didn't want to go I stayed at our house.
I was watching cartoons on the television when I heard my mother's voice call out. "Helllloooo!" I responded and opened the door for them. My mom walked in carrying grocery bags and then walked right back out. I asked if she need some help but she waved me off and said that it was okay. About a minute after I saw her walking back up the stairs as my dad walked behind her with a heavy box full of more groceries on his head. My mom was carrying a bag of chips in her hands. She put some in her mouth and then turned around and put one in my father's mouth. Suddenly my dad started coughing. I didn't pay much attention to it because everybody coughs every once in a while just to clear their throats. However the coughing didn't stop. It got louder and louder. I looked over and saw my dad's face turning red. Sweat beads had formed on his forehead and he was clutching his throat. I immediately realized he was choking and was scared. I started to panic and felt my eyes getting watery. Within a couple of seconds I realized that I didn't have time to be scared. I had to be brave because every second I spent scared was a second my dad spent without air. By this time my mom had realized what was going on. I gave her a glass of water to give to my dad. He put the water in his mouth but it all poured back out. Things were starting to get serious. My dad was turning purple. I started hitting my dad on the back as hard as I could. I didn't care about the pain in my hands I just wanted him to breathe. My mom moved me out of the way and put her hands around my dad's stomach. Meanwhile I grabbed the phone. I started dialing 911. Just as I was about to hit "Talk" my mom squeezed with all her strength. Out flew the chip and my day took one giant breath followed by quick little ones. His face slowly went back to normal color. If I had let fear take a hold of me instead of being brave and thinking clearly things might have been a lot worse.

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