It’s Saturday night and my brother Ryan and I have been home alone for a few chaotic hours. Its also about to be prime time on Nickelodeon and all I want to do is plop down, in from of our one television, and watch “All That” in peace. Of course Ryan’s choice of entertainment is conflicting with mine, as he wants to play Nintendo. This is usually how most our quarrels start; but this one is different.
My little brother is being a brat, not listening to any compromise and mocking me all the while. Being a horribly impatient mediator, I dangle a toy of his over the staircase. “OOPS”, I yell as I watch his brand new, blue controller drop to the landing below. Naturally, he throws something of value of mine down the stairs, as well. I forgot what it was but it was important to me; and I am now filled with rage, as I realize my program has already started.
He and I run simultaneously to the staircase, to make our descent to the landing, to collect our tossed items. We are pushing each other into the bordering walls of the stairs, as we go down. He blocks my way with his arms, on one of the steps, but I push my scrawny little brother aside. We get down to the landing and he pushes me against the door. I push back hard, having had enough of this and hoping this will end it; but naturally my antagonistic brother pushes me one final time.
When he pushes me, I fall in the direction of the second set of stairs. I lean further, making myself fall down the stairs and I descend to the bottom of the second floor. Ryan, feeling victorious, begins to march away. That is, until I stop him dead in his tracks, by starting the worst prank I have ever pulled or probably will ever pull in my life.
“Ryan! I can’t move my legs!” I scream out to him and he immediately rushes down to the second floor. I say again “I can’t move my legs” and I make a gesture as if I’m using all of my effort to move them, but I can’t. I lie there and I watch him scrambled around, trying to figure out what to do. I am basking in glory, smiling, dreaming that maybe, once he discovers that I am okay, he will respect his older sister more. But my hopes are immediately squashed as I overhear the coversation he is having with my parents. I wasn’t planning on keeping up with the prank for much longer at all but it was already too late, as I hear Ryan say “Okay hurry home!”
Hell hath no fury like the scorn of two angry parents. Upon their arrival I was in a world of trouble and was grounded for a very long time. When I tell this story as an adult, people often say “Geeze you were a mean kid”; but I was pushed to this point. Ryan and I would fight all the time and it certainly did not stop after this; but I tried to put the fear of god in him. Only it was my parents that put the fear in me.
Compare this to the back-to-work piece. Here there's nothing hidden behind the curtain, no narrative hook. The one place where this might have jumped into narrative is where you bug out--when the 'rents return. That might have led to the story turning into a narrative.
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