I am the biggest klutz in the world. My family went on a ski trip for winter break. My very first time on the mountain, I fall down it and break my arm. And I didn’t even have my skis on.

I know what you’re thinking, how can you be that clumsy? I don’t really know, but here I am, sitting by the fire in the lodge while the rest of my family is out having fun.

Oh it was such agony, hearing my bones snap, feeling the burning rush throughout my arm and up to my head, nearly making me unconscious from the pain.

No, I can’t think of it. I need to sit here with my book and ignore the fact that I am injured and unable to have fun. Everything’s okay.

Hours pass, hot chocolate cups are drained, a few pages of my book are read. Boredom ensues. When are my parents coming back? Did they forget they had a crippled daughter waiting for them? Probably.

They came back as the first of many beautiful stars appeared in the sky, full of snow and stories. Not once am I asked how I’m doing or if I’m in any pain. But it’s ok. I smile and brush it off, their happiness is more important than my comfort. As I fall asleep, I reflect upon how this is only the first day of what turned out to be a ski disaster.