This is my fourth revision of my essay for my English composition class. My first three appeared to lack a point, as that is what all three reviewers had told me. I went a completely different route with this essay and was wondering if I could get your feedback on it.
A Lesson I'll Never Forget
The scream of agony played over and over in my mind when I finally tried to sleep. I found myself staring at the ceiling; every time I closed my eyes the flashbacks would come back. Thousands of questions raced through my mind that night, but one kept coming back. Was this my fault? I tried to answer it, but never reached a verdict. This is a lesson I would never forget.
The day began like any other day; I showed up at the small, family owned mulch business I work for around 8:00 A.M. and walked in the office to examine what kind of work was lined up for the day. Staring at me was a stack of deliveries I needed to make. I started my journey to deliver the seven loads early that day. By the time I came back from my fifth delivery, the grinder we used to make our mulch showed up. I was always amazed by the size and power the mulch grinder possessed. Its powerful engine could easily shred a full grown tree in seconds. I was overly excited to see the grinder that day because this ensured I wouldn't have to wait to load up if we ran out of mulch. I started to leave for my next delivery when I noticed my coworker Perry signaling for me to come over. I got out of the truck walked to the grinder where Perry was at.
I climbed up on the grinder, like I had done a hundred times, to talk with Perry and Zac, the grinder's operator. Zac told me they needed my assistance because something was wrong with the grinder that day. He wanted me to hold the powerful grinding wheel while they changed the enormous metal screens we used to size our mulch. The first screen went in with no problem, and Zac descended from the grinder crane he worked in. He grabbed a log nearby and wedged it between the grinding wheel and the new screen. I had never seen him do this before and was a little concerned. Zac claimed it was put there for our safety since the grinder was acting up and he didn't want the grinding wheel to spin. I looked over at Perry who was chaining the other screen to lift it out and noticed he was also looking at the wedged log. He turned to me and said, "You see that? That shouldn't be like that." I glanced at the log and noticed how furiously it was vibrating. I tightened my grip on the grinding wheel when he said that.
Then, out of nowhere, the wheel suddenly jolted from my hands. The wheel began to spin, and as it did, it carried the log and metal screen with it. I shouted Perry's name, but it was already too late. Before I could finish yelling his name the screen was spun out and thrown at him. He was trapped by the other side of the grinder and had to no place to go as the metal screen raced toward him. He let out a painful scream, "My legs!" I flagged for Zac to shut the grinder off and ran over to Perry. The metal screen was lying against his legs when I got over to him. It took all my strength to peel the 400 pound screen off his legs.
When I peeled the screen off, I could finally see the damage. His legs were now flat like pancakes and the bone stuck out his right leg. With only his skin holding his feet to his legs, the wind was blowing them around like clothes drying on a clothes line. I hunched over the grinding wheel in the most awkward position holding Perry's leg in a straight line, fearful the grinding wheel would spin again turning us both into mulch as we waited for the ambulance.
The ambulance finally showed up and relieved me of the uncomfortable position I was in. I climbed down from the machine and watched as Perry was lifted off of the grinder. I could hardly stand because my legs felt like noodles from being hunched over all that time, forcing me to sit down. When I sat down my head began to spin from the shock I was in. Questions instantly started to race through my mind. Was this my fault? Could have I prevented it? What if that would have been me? I squirmed in pain when my mind relived the scene in slow motion. Each flashback I had burned the scene deeper into my memory.
After the paramedics took Perry to the hospital, I went to see him. When I walked in the hospital, I tried to explain to the receptionist that I was looking for Perry. The nurse could tell something was wrong, as few words came stumbling from my mouth. She tried to comfort me on our walk to Perry's room. She reassured me that it was just an accident and it wasn't my fault. I still didn't know what to believe. We finally arrived at Perry's room and it took all my might not to cry as I walked in. He was doing better already, but his legs were still crushed. He asked for everyone to leave the room so he could talk to me alone. He said, "Whatever you do, don't think this is your fault. There was nothing you could have done to prevent it." But it was already too late. The questions had already been in my mind. I had gone through different scenarios and how it could have been different. I was finally able to go home that night but couldn't sleep. All I could hear was the scream Perry let out as he was being crushed. The slow motion flashbacks of watching his legs break were back. I laid in bed for hours thinking about it before I finally fell asleep.
Not only did the restless sleep continue for the next few weeks, but the next few weeks at work were very different also. We had to grind again a week later, and looking at the grinder gave my flashbacks of what happened. The grinder's massive size and powerful engines no longer impressed me, but terrified me. It was not easy to walk and climb on the grinder like I once did. I gracefully watched each step I made, making sure I didn't have an accident of my own. Listening to the engines start was a constant reminder of the lesson learned, as all I could think about was the destruction this machine unleashed on Perry.
Three months after the accident, Perry is finally able to walk without the use of any devices. The doctor expects a full recovery, but for now, Perry slowly walks with a limp. Last week he was finally cleared to start driving on his own again and frequently visits me at work. Whenever Perry comes to work, I begin to feel guilty for what happened, although a valuable lesson has been learned. Nowadays I use extreme caution whenever I am operating or standing by machinery. I've learned to appreciate every day I get to be alive and not to become complacent in my work because that's when mistakes like this are made. As Perry slowly recovers from his injury, my guilt is slowly fading away, but still, no matter what I do, there hasn't been a day that I don't think to myself: was it my fault?
Any thoughts?
Thanks,
Matt
I found myself staring at the ceiling; every time I closed my eyes the flashbacks would come back began to return. -------- I suggest this because I feel "flashback" and "come back" sounds a bit of repertitive.
Amidst the tT housands of questions raced through my mind that night, butone in particular keptcoming backtormenting me all the time .
I enjoyed reading your essay. Your writing is very high standard. Please treat the above as mere suggestions which may sometimes help improve your essay further.
