I was in fourth grade when I sprained my ankle. This is the closest I've come to breaking a bone. I was over at my friend's house. His mother had arranged a scavenger hunt for us and the first clue was in his tree house that was a little ways out from his house. Now in fourth grade I fancied myself an adventurer, like in the way a normal child does, not to a weird extent. My friend said that he loved to jump out of the tree house for fun. I was instantly determined to try it. If he could do it, there was no reason I couldn't. The thing about the tree house though, is that it was located a ways up in trees. A story and a half to two stories I was told later. I should have listened to my inner cautious person but I was an adventurer!!!! I had adventures!!! So I crouched down and hopped out the tree house. I can still remember the fall. It felt like I was falling for a long time, and even though it was an odd feeling it was pretty awesome! Thankfully I landed like a cat, on my feet crouched down with my hands on the ground. There was an instant pain in my ankle. In the time that it took to fall, my friends had some how made it to the ground. One of my friends ran over to me starring and tried to help me up because I hadn't gotten up for at least 5 minutes. Since that day I've suffered from weak ankles. Probably before as well and I just hadn't realized it to be fair.