This article is part of The Ascent Summer Program 2020
It was a habitual Sunday. All my cousins and I were at my grandma’s house, playing our most loved make-believe game, “The Revenge of the Ninjas.” We made it up one day when we were dying of boredom. We were playfully kicking and punching each other on my grandmother’s bouncy blue bed. It was like war in the noisy room, causing the place to resemble a monkey’s house. The pillows were on the cold floor beside the bed and the bed cover was almost ripped apart by the pulling and jumping being done on it. Being the worrier I am, all I could think about was “What were my parents going to say when we had made such a mess? I don’t have to worry about my grandmother because she loved us playing and not bothering her, but what about my parents?” While my brain was busy thinking about this, I lost my focus on the game. I almost never did this because of my naturally competitive spirit, hence my cousins decided to take advantage of my distraction. In the split second, I went from being distracted to not feeling anything at all.
The pain in my stomach was terrible. It felt like I had just been playing in a boxing match with a champion and lost. The crying and screaming that I was experiencing were taking up a lot of my energy, making me light-headed. My cousin had just kicked me straight in the abdomen. I was sure she didn’t mean to kick that hard because we had made a directive that there was only fake kicking and hurting. If this rule was broken, the consequences were deadly, and they wouldn’t be able to play Revenge of the Ninjas anymore. But I was convinced that she had not been listening when the order was passed.
“Owwwwwwwwwwwww!” I screamed as soon as her leg made its way into my delicate stomach. Her follow up to what she had just performed was what made we as angry as I was. “It wasn’t my fault, you weren’t paying attention,” she retorted with an evil grin on her smug face. Groaning was all that escaped my quivering mouth at that moment. I was furious she kicked me and she couldn’t apologize, moreover blaming her mistake on me?
Not long after, the room began looking sad and everything started to look blurry. The smell wasn’t r eally recognizable, and even if it was, my memory fails to bring it back to me. Then everything went black.
Black was all I could distinguish in my peripheral view and I felt the weird sensation of numbness and something else that I cannot describe till date.
Apparently when I was in this faint position it seemed to my little sister that one kick had sucked the life out of me. “Guys…Tara is…dead,” she advertised to the whole family, Stopping in between each word to wipe back tears that were streaming down her tomato looking face. As usual my family thought it was another one of our make believe games. Nevertheless, my mother trailed behind my sister into the now dead quiet room. My mother had this look on her face that was screaming the quote “Why do I need to be pulled in every one of their games?” When she took a step into the room, she realized something was wrong. All of my cousins looked guilty, and they had worried looks on their faces. When she glanced over at me, she disclosed a little gasp.
My sister, being the spontaneous one, was already out of the room. She thought she had the best idea . If she poured water on my face, I would wake up from the dead and she’d be the family’s hero. Well, the next time my eyes opened and I saw color, felt like I was in a swimming pool and could faintly hear my sister cheering overhead. After hearing what had happened to me, everything seemed surreal. Had I just fainted? I questioned in my head.
Seeing that I was submerged in water from head to toe, I knew it had to be one of my sisters insensible ideas. Little did I know that experience was the beginning of stories of my fainting, and very soon, I would have more to tell.