I was seven

Today I was reminded of a memory I was seven Hanging from a metallic rusting bar, it was noon The paint on the bar left frail, yellow chips in my hands The bar was only a meet three feet of the ground An anomaly in our playground A singular yellow bar I would hang upside down on it, practically every afternoon at recess I was recalling how I fell of this bar to my mom today It was a foggy afternoon, right after lunch I went to hang upside down on the bar, I always did that first in my recess ruitine Then, as I went to hang only by my legs, my leggings and the fog combined in a tragic way I slipped of the bar. Right onto my head I don't remember anything but waking up in the school nurses office I slipped, got a concussion, simple. My mom and I did not remember the same story She recalls it was not s combination of my fashion choice and the foggy afternoon It was the doing of someone else hands One of my class mates had pushed me And my teacher watched him do it, then came rushing over, obviously it was too late I was only seven when this happened But I was only seventeen when I realized my own memory was betraying me