So it became a fascination amongst my peers that season, to carefully climb this fence, hang from a handful of vine branches and swing out across the neighbor's yard and back to the playground where you would "let go" and hopefully land without breaking anything.
But if you were good and "dextrous" you could, with some practice, return to the spot atop the fence where you had started your pendulum swing.
So I watched with anticipation for I knew what was about to happen in my movie.  I watched as the young me waited my turn in line, joking and teasing the others about how cool and talented they were, compared to how much better I was athletically.
About how I could spin three complete times before landing perfectly atop the fence.

When my turn came, I could almost feel the handful of vines in my grasp as I twisted them enough to enable my three revolutions.  When I soared above the ground so distant, I could hear my thoughts as I told myself how cool I was, about how I would be the envy of my friends.
And my movie seemed to proceed in slow motion, I don't know if it was always on "auto pilot" or if it had something to do with my apprehension or anxiousness.
There I was, turning in the air, the wind on my face.  And there I was, falling from a misstep, scraping my back along the top of the fence as I fell to the ground.

I was quick to my feet as my movie snapped out of slow motion.  I climbed the fence again for I had found myself on the neighbor's property and did not want to get caught doing something I knew was probably against the rules.
But the shocked looks on the faces of my friends told me something was just not right.
A small trickle of blood ran down the side of my face and I put my fingers to it.
I tried to calm myself, I actually heard my thoughts inside my head again and I felt my fear all over again.  My friends kept asking me if I was all right and I remember the confusion.  Of course I'm all right, it was just a scratch on my temple, don't tell the teachers, I think I'm done with the swing for a bit...

But as I walked towards the school, I felt something wet drip down the center of my butt.
I heard the confusion in my thoughts as I reached, painfully, to my behind, my hand returning, covered in dark blood.
I watched in my movie as time slowed again.  I saw one of my friends say to me in slow motion, there's a lot of blood...
And I realized (for the second time) that I was not going to be able to "hide" my accident.
By the time I had reached the teacher responsible for watching us during recess, my shoes were making a squishing sound and leaving huge red footprints behind me.
I watched as they brought me quickly to the school's nurse.  I remember feeling bad about my trail of footprints as I knew that some poor janitor was going to spend a "lot" of time cleaning that day.