These events that I will relate to you, dear reader, are very, very depressing. If you wish to hear a nice, calm story about a Hobbit who lived in his comfy hole, you are welcome to leave this page immediately! You still here? Ok, you asked for it, I will now proceed to tell you a story of woe which all began when we went to the pool that fateful day…
I was but an innocent child that fateful day when we went to the pool (a small amount of over dramatization ahead!). Little was I to know that I was about to be scarred for life and that I wouldn't return home that day! Proceeding on the pool deck towards my mother, I slipped, woosh crrack! went my chin as it hit the ground brutally. The doctor's worried face hovered over me and I had to be stitched back together piece by piece. Death was an inch away, but I scratched and clawed myself away from the light in the distance and escaped to tell my tale.
This story, even though being the saddest one, is not the only event in my series of unfortunate events. I will now relate to you another story that happened at the heart of the dragon's nest of modern times, Disney!
I was but a six-year-old, and was following my mother to the exit when she stopped at a small shack where some people were playing music! Those cowards indubitably wished me to be lost, and played that exact theme to steer my mother away from the path to the exit. I kept wandering onwards, and eventually found a policeman who was kind enough to save me, and take me to a tent of respite where I waited minute after minute, hour after hour, until finally, I was saved! My mother had to battle mobs of Disney fans and multiple staff members to claim me back from the clutches of the evil overlord Mickey Mouse.
The next event is one of woe, and sorrow, and regret. I will relate to you the story of the broken arm…
Once upon a rainy day, my brother and I were racing on our bikes on a soggy afternoon. It had rained all day, and we were having a blast when all of a sudden my brother fell onto the ground! I rode on ahead, not being able to stop and crash went my bike onto his arm, and it broke into a million tiny pieces. To this day, we are still picking up pieces of his body off that tennis court.
I have many more stories like these, but if I were to tell you all of them, dear reader, you would close the article and throw away your computer, and trust me, I would not like a crowd of angry readers mobbing me in the streets for making them destroy their computers.