Personal Reflective Writing

I lay there on the ground, motionless and frozen, my body jarred out at odd angles. I stayed there for what seemed like an age, experiencing extreme pain and then nothing.

When I awoke, my eyesight blurry, from what I could surmise, there were people all around me asking faintly how I felt, everyone with worried shocked expressions. My senses were in overdrive, trying to make sense of what violent distress my body had just endured.

After a spell lying on my back, I was helped to sit up, if I thought I could manage it. I could. Suddenly I felt an excessive surge of pain in my left shoulder. I tried to scream aloud, let them know I was not all right, but all that came out was a muted squeak.
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I was subsequently helped to my feet, my arm being supported, my legs like jelly. I wobbled and swayed uneasily on the spot for a few seconds, being assisted I walked lamely over to the side. Without hesitation I sat down, the weight on my legs was unbearable; I could feel my knees buckling underneath me.

Here, now, I had a chance to figure out and reflect on what had just happened. I was riding my horse. Yes, that was it. I came around the top corner of the school then ... what happened next I was ...

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