A Dumb Idea (#16)
My sister was five years older than me, and I used to be as scrawny as they come. Ergo, my big sister used to beat the shit out of me.
A lot.
Until that fateful day in the basement when I hit a growth spurt and was able to knock the crap out of my big sister, I had to resort to other ways of hurting her. Standing toe-to-toe with my big sister was certain doom; my best bet was to break something she liked and run like hell.
I used to never wear shoes. It didn't matter if my friends and I were walking through fields, walking into town on hot pavement, or even playing tennis--when it wasn't snowing, I liked running around without shoes and socks. My feet were pretty tough, but even I had my limits.
During one particular battle in the basement (my sister's bedroom was in the basement, right off the rec room), I was getting the begeezus knocked out of me. I knew my only hope was to destroy something my sister cherished and run away like a crack monkey. I ran into her bedroom and ripped her Rocky Horror Picture Show tapestry off her wall. My plan was to grab it, run away, and hold it hostage.
But when I pulled at it, it ripped.
Right down the middle.
I knew I was about to get a taste of death.
I ran like a crack monkey on steroids, but adrenaline from rage fueled my sister's pursuit. She caught me in the rec room.
I heard something shatter at my feet.
My bare feet.
In the time it took for me to turn and run, she grabbed a Led Zeppelin mirror she had on her dresser, stopped me from running, and shattered the mirror at my feet. To run away meant slicing my feet.
My sister was wearing shoes.
I stood there with broken shards of the mirror all around and took the beating of my life.
I never destroyed another thing she owned after that day.
A lot.
Until that fateful day in the basement when I hit a growth spurt and was able to knock the crap out of my big sister, I had to resort to other ways of hurting her. Standing toe-to-toe with my big sister was certain doom; my best bet was to break something she liked and run like hell.
I used to never wear shoes. It didn't matter if my friends and I were walking through fields, walking into town on hot pavement, or even playing tennis--when it wasn't snowing, I liked running around without shoes and socks. My feet were pretty tough, but even I had my limits.
During one particular battle in the basement (my sister's bedroom was in the basement, right off the rec room), I was getting the begeezus knocked out of me. I knew my only hope was to destroy something my sister cherished and run away like a crack monkey. I ran into her bedroom and ripped her Rocky Horror Picture Show tapestry off her wall. My plan was to grab it, run away, and hold it hostage.
But when I pulled at it, it ripped.
Right down the middle.
I knew I was about to get a taste of death.
I ran like a crack monkey on steroids, but adrenaline from rage fueled my sister's pursuit. She caught me in the rec room.
I heard something shatter at my feet.
My bare feet.
In the time it took for me to turn and run, she grabbed a Led Zeppelin mirror she had on her dresser, stopped me from running, and shattered the mirror at my feet. To run away meant slicing my feet.
My sister was wearing shoes.
I stood there with broken shards of the mirror all around and took the beating of my life.
I never destroyed another thing she owned after that day.