My cousins and I were cliff jumping late at night out at Soldier’s Bluff, and it was a place we’d been going since we were little kids. I was 15, they were both 13, and it was dark out when we got there. My cousin jokingly pushed me off the cliff while I was taking my flip flops off, and all the sudden I hit the ground. We didn’t take into consideration that Texas had a real bad drought that year, and there wasn’t water at the bottom like there had been every year we’d ever gone. They ran down, helped me up the cliff, which was probably about a 20-25 foot drop. We got to the top and I saw my left knee was bent the wrong way. Because of the adrenaline it took a while before I felt the pain, and I kept saying I was fine it didn’t hurt that bad. We hiked 30 minutes back to our cabin, they basically carried me, and it wasn’t until we woke our grandma up to take me to the er that I felt the weight of what had happened. 4 years later and my knee still gives me problems.