It was a normal day when I was snowboarding with the school in Italy?. It was only the second day so I wasn’t that good, I was very unstable and I was often falling over.

Today I was trying to stop on my toes while going really fast and I buckled, this isn’t the first time I have fell over, so I got up and thought nothing of it and went back to the top of the slope.

It wasn’t until people started screaming and pointing at me that I realised my hand was hanging off my wrist. Like a needle hanging from a thread, my hand was hanging off my wrist with blood pouring out of it. As soon as what happened had sunk in, I instantly bellowed out ” what the heck has happened ?” and just sat down in the corner crying?.

I don’t know why I’m upset; it doesn’t hurt. Out of no where a skier ⛷ came and knocked my hand, apologised straight away, but my whole hand came flying off my arm and started sliding down the slope ??.

? Angry that my hand has gone but not in pain ?,the blood stopped pouring out and then some guy came walking up the slopes with my severed hand inside a pickle jar and said “go to a hospital ? and they will re -attach it , ask for Mr Reeves he will do it for you.” Before I could say thank you, he disappeared quicker than you could say Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.

I soon woke up at the top of the slope with a jar that said pickles on it, but there was no pickles . IT WAS MY HAND?! Wait, u remember that guy, yeah he told me to go hospital to ask for Mr Reeves. I just woke up though, oh well let’s go hospital.