On a crisp fall day, the only activity that could satiate my roaring childhood boredom was propelling myself on a minuscule metal vehicle that occupied the garages of most families in the neighborhood: a scooter.

The joys of riding a scooter are simply unmatched. The feeling of the wind blowing in my hair as I propel myself forward on the scooter makes me forget the world around me. There was a tiny trail that only the coolest kids in the neighborhood knew about where we were able to ride freely — unencumbered by any motor vehicles that may have attempted to intrude upon our journeys of endless exuberance.

Think back to the days of your childhood, the memories that you can’t quite place but those replete with feelings you can easily recognize. This sense of nostalgia makes me long for simpler days when my biggest struggle was figuring out how I would be able to finish my homework, have scooter time and make it back in time for the crossover episode of “Hannah Montana”, “Wizards of Waverly Place” and “Suite Life on Deck”.

However, this feeling is quickly stomped to the curb and replaced by the searing sensations of pain in my memory. The irreverent feeling of being hit in the ankle by a scooter scars any positive premonitions or memories of my scootering days.

If you’re like me, when you are riding a scooter and you happen to pause for a second to catch your breath, your first instinct is to hold on to the handlebars and swing the scooter bed a little bit. What a foolish thought.

Because of my cluelessness, there are many negative memories that jump to the forefront of my brain when I recall scootering. The intense and sharp pain plagues my thoughts and sends horrific flashbacks of my skin being attacked by the devilish metal device.

How can an object designed to bring upon joy cause so much pain? I suppose my experiences being on a scooter truly opened me up to the harsh and cruel reality of the world. Nothing is as painless and fun as it seems. Everything will eventually find a way to hurt you.

This is not to be negative or anything. I still consider my days of riding a scooter to be fond, but I will never be able to go back to the state of childlike wonder that I possessed in the moments prior to pain and hurt.

Being hit in the ankle is not something that one can easily recover from — the pain stays with you. Some days, while I am studying for my next computer science exam or even just hanging with friends, I get flashbacks to the moments of pain.

They are haunting.

I hope to — one day — get over the traumatic feeling and be able to allow myself to freely feel the wind in my hair once again on top of a scooter. I do not know if that day will be soon, as every day is another uphill battle to overcome the memories of pain.