My Earliest Memory

My earliest memory was pretending to be something else, imagining that I was a knight. This was at are old house back in Queen Charlotte Islands, when I was around 3 or 5. I use to believe I was seven feet tall, longsword in scabbard and bow and shield on my back. To be specific I always use to think I was a Templar knight (I use to think the bucket helmets and the tabards were so cool). I could be either running through enchanted forests punting gnomes (they were actually soccer balls) or sailing across the ocean in a mighty warship that was 1000ft tall with 10000 cannons (this was me on a floaty in the ocean) or riding a mighty horse into battle.
I probably looked like a kid having a seizure in the backyard to my neighbors, “That’s one freaky kid.” They would probably say.

I think the most dangerous memory of being a knight was when I made and fired my bow for the first time.
It was quite interesting building it for the first time. I had to go all MacGyver and use household objects and a stick to make a working bow that fired sharpened sticks. First I had to find the actual bow handle. That was probably the tricky part. We lived right in front of a forest area, but trying to find a stick that could flex enough to fire but not break when I did proved a more difficult task than it seemed. As I was scouring the forest for a stick I began to feel lost and frightened from all the shadows, but then I imagined I had another knight watching my back and I didn’t feel so scared. Nothing beat monsters back like a guy with a spiked war hammer. When I finally found a stick, I made a run for the backyard when all of a sudden I heard a growl. It was the most ferocious thing I have ever heard in my small life. I stifled a scream and ran a hell of a lot faster than before (I later found out it was just my uncle trying to scare me, he succeeded.).
When I finally jumped the fence and made it back to the backyard, I learned I needed two more important things for a bow, a bowstring and ductape for grip.

After that, the best thing I could find was a shoelace and red sticky tape used for holding down cloth. That would have to do. As I was attaching the shoestring I heard a rustle in the woods, and I saw the glint of steel. I felt like I got kicked in the face by my warhorse. I began to work super quick, tying the string off and began to wrap the ductape around my stick.

When I went up to my dad to make sure I made the bowstring tight enough, he gave me a present. “Here Triston, I made you some arrows out of pieces of wood, but they aren’t sharp on the end so you don’t hurt yourself.” He said as he handed me my ammo. “Why don’t you go practice in the back yard, away from anything slanted.”

As I began to get better with my toy, I began to take it with me on trips into the woods. It was a lot less scary when I had a weapon in my hand. As I wandered the woods, I began to feel lonely and sad; I was all alone in the woods with a shoelace bow and flat arrows in my hand. Then I began to get angry. I whipped the bow off my back, put the string in the arrow notch, and fired at a tree.

It was probably one of the scariest moments in my life.
As the arrow went whizzing off trees and rocks, I hit the ground and began to crawl behind a rock. “This probably topped my uncle scaring me with growls” I thought to myself sarcastically. Then it happened, the arrow landed right in front of my face.
I let out a scream that was similar to SpongeBob drowning (if that’s possible) and grabbed the arrow and ran as fast I could towards my house.

That’s how I learned Physics.

Taking Blood

Jan.29
As I was entering the blood donation building, I could already feel the dread washing over me like I just dived in to the ocean… in January. When my dad and I went inside building, the scent was so strong; it was like I could taste the cheap pharmaceuticals of Canada and the anti-septic they wiped the injection spot with. All in all it smelled like an old folk’s home, and it was not pleasant. As we walked up to the assistant for my blood test, my eyes laid sight on it. The amazing 50 inch TV with about a dozen games to play. I could only describe it as a sanctuary in hell, or an oasis in a dry desert. Then of course the nurse cuts me ahead of EVERYONE in line and before I could even comprehend what happened, my arm was already tied with something that looked like a balloon and the pressure is filling in my arm like an overstuffed animal. She might as well have strapped me in a torture chair and starting spinning a pizza cutter.

I think the moment where I became truly nervous was when the assistant told me the doctor had stepped out and she would be taking the blood. I was already nervous enough with a professional doing it, now I’m just sweating. As she wiped the spot down with anti-septic, she began to look almost as nervous as I was. That did NOT inspire the most confidence. Finally she was able to take the little protection cap off the needle and began counting down from 3. “This won’t hurt a bit, I promise. One, Two, THREE.” The needle slid in my arm and I instantly felt cold and warm at the same time. It wasn’t actually that painful until the look of worry swept across her face. “I’m not getting any blood from this spot in the vein; I’m going to have to try a new spot.”

Well, that went on for a good five minutes, she made my arm look like a pointillism drawing before she had enough blood to fill a vial. “Well that didn’t go exactly as planned” she said apologetically. Thank you Sherlock, I thought to myself as I said thank you and hurriedly left the room. As I walked by the front desk I saw a bowl of chapstick. “Might as well get something out of this” and took one as me and my dad quickly left the building and jumped in the truck and headed back to school.