The Genie Who Let Herself Out              When I was eight years old, I was going to have the best Halloween ever.  I had a genie costume that was baby blue and sparkly.  Halloween was right around the corner, which meant tons of candy from trick-or-treating.              About two weeks before October 31st, I was at the after school club.  It was cold, windy, and dark out.  The program leader told everyone to go outside on the playground, and so we all sprinted out to the best equipment, the monkey bars.  I put on my gloves to keep my hands from freezing, but yet I could still go on the monkey bars, or so I thought.             I was doing really well on the monkey bars until I got about halfway across them.  My gloves made my right hand slip off and I fell to the ground.  All I felt was immediate pain and I couldn’t move my right wrist.  I had the program leader call my mom to come pick me up because the pain would not go away.  He told me it was just a sprain, but I knew it was more than that.              My mom came and picked me up from the after school program. She took one look at my wrist and she was in shock.  We rushed to the emergency room to have x-rays taken.  They knocked me out with pain killers so I wouldn’t feel a thing.             When I woke up, my whole arm was as hard as a bone because it was in a cast and I was on my way for more x-rays.  I had broken my wrist badly.              It was a sad Halloween for me, even though I had the best costume ever.  While I was trick-or-treating, my parents came up with a nickname for me.  For the rest of the time I was in a cast, I was known as the genie that fell out of her bottle. Reflection             This holiday is one of the few holidays that really stick out in my mind, only because it was supposed to be the best and turned out to be worse.  After all the fuss I made about breaking my wrist over Halloween, my parents tried to make it fun for me and make me smile.  By giving me a nickname, they created that memory that I will hold forever.