Frightened. Panicky. Petrified. Any words that describe ‘scared’ was accurate. I was about to go to the the driver’s seat, wanting to ‘drive all around the city’ as if I had the ability to do so. My cousins were doing the exact same thing, as if it was a race. And then it happened. The puddle. It damaged me. I was running to the driver’s seat as fast as I could at midnight and that inconspicuous puddle made me tumble onto the stiff ground. Did I pass out? I don’t know. Trembling. Quivering. Shivering. Any words that describe ‘shook’ was accurate. I shakily stood up, watching my silver iPhone sinking into the inconspicuous puddle. I took a quick look at myself, and watched as dirt started oozing and leaking down my shirt and leggings. As I reached up to my head, which had a cut with bright red blood oozing out, I felt a sharp pain in my right arm. I couldn’t move it. I just couldn’t. And I just stood there, with my feet in the inconspicuous puddle, feeling paralyzed and alone in the darkness as my cousins ran everywhere, screaming ‘help’. Unhappy. Dejected. Miserable. Any word to describe ‘sad’ or ‘helpless’ was accurate.