When Handbrakes Can Be Useful

Near my Grandma’s house,
I ride around the block,
where the afternoon sun shines in the distance.
The wind shoots into my face and whistles by;
I backpedal on the brakes and stand on the edge of the hill.
I take my feet off the bike,
but the sound of chains reaches my ears
as the bike slowly inches forward.
I stretch my feet, but they cannot reach the ground,
and unexpectedly, I start to race down the hill.
While the air thrashes at my hot face,
my whirling pedals strike off my ineffective feet.
My bike soon rams a pole, launching me straight into it.
I fall to the ground,
My head throbbing as the bike collapses,
its rusty brake scraping my leg.
The sparkling shards of the shattered reflector
scatter on the sidewalk.
As I lift my bike, the hand brake gleams in my face
and leaves me feeling empty as a shell.

by Renner Fujiwara
9th grade, ‘Iolani School