The Motorbike
A Story By Rachel Gosling

My dad was teaching me how to ride his motorbike last summer and i was sitting on it trying to balance (which was very hard) while he told me what to do. Suddenly the bike started to tip over and i grabbed onto the handlebars. Dad said "no don't do that, when you twist the handlebars forward you go forward. OK?" i would've told him that i wasn't stupid but then the bike started wobbling real bad so i grabbed on to the handlebars again. I held on a little too tightly coz the bike starting going forward and my dad swore very loudly and ran off (unfortunately he hadn't taught me where the brakes were so i was right behind him...)
So there he is, running away like Indiana Jones from that big boulder (er...except Indiana is a large alcaholic signwriter and the boulder is his daughter on a suzuki scooter) and i'm sitting there screaming away and then dad jumps out of the way and lands in a heap on the curb like all heroes do.
Eventually (not too mention luckily...)I figured out where the brakes were and went back to our house, where dad was leaning against the garden wall, completely out of it. He was all green and breathless and half-dead. i said "That was cool! Did you see that, dad? I drove! I got my first taste of adrenaline!It was wicked!" and dad just sort of sat there and panted. Then he said "never...(pant pant)do that...(pant cough) again!"
To this day im not allowed within a 20 meter radius of the bike...