The Rock

Years ago on an October afternoon, a young boy was with a good friend at his grandmother’s house. The house sat on top of a steep hill looking over the road with a small amount of traffic, only a few cars passing by once and awhile. It was a nice quiet day outside the leaves fell as the crisp fall air hit the boys face and the cold air filled his lungs with a pumpkin scent.
The boys were playing with rocks all of a sudden one of the boys starting to throw the rocks at the other boy and then they kept going back and forth having a good time dodging the rocks as they flew past their bodies. One of the boys had enough though he wanted to get away he ran down the hill looking back to see if the other boy had followed but he was nowhere to be seen.
The boy at the bottom of the hill heard screaming in the distance he looked around and saw nothing and then he caught a glimpse of the other boy on the top of the hill. This boy had a huge boulder in his hands, the boy starts to run in fear not knowing what way to run or how fast to go. The boy at the bottom of the hill near the road with the slow amount of traffic looks up at the boy, but the boy doesn’t have the rock anymore the rock is in mid-air everything becomes slow motion. The boy on the hill waves his hands motioning him to run quickly, but it’s too late…
The boy on the bottom of the hill is struck and thrown to the grown aggressively. As he lays there he comes to for a few minutes his eyes are wide open, he stares up at the sky and his eyes close slowly. The boy wakes up quickly after and he is now in the back of a vehicle, he isn’t sure what is going on and he goes back to sleep.
Years later the boy is still around, but he will never forget what had happened, or at least he won’t forget the parts he was awake for. The lesson the boy learned was that it’s good to take life seriously because some things might seem like a fun game, but it’s not when you get hit with a rock.

Photo by Matt Peoples on Foter.com / CC BY-NC-ND