Personal Narrative: What Were You Thinking?

I’d really done it this time. Mom had been furious when she had learned that I had hit my brother with a golf club, which is rather justified considering my brother had started bleeding. I hadn’t meant to make him to bleed, we were just playing a game. He hid under the ginormous pillow that belonged on the moon chair and I asked him if it hurt when I hit it with one of my plastic golf clubs, it was just a silly game we had made up on the spot, surely it wasn’t my fault that I had hit the opening just right. But then again, it was definitely my fault. I’d swung the club and hit my brother in the head in response to which he declared he needed a Time out, little did we know that when he started rubbing his head because of how “sweaty” he was, in reality he was actually flinging blood all over the place.
My mother hadn’t had the time to properly berate me, that had been interrupted by an obvious need to head to the ER and fix my brother. Not that he was broken, he was just a little loose in the seams.
“Chase Robert!” My mother bellowed upon her return, “What were you thinking?!” I explained the premise of the game to her, but she seemed anything but proud with our resourcefulness to come up with a new game. …show more content…
Instead he was interested in the metal staples they had put in his scalp to hold everything together, which is understandable considering that this now made him part robot, what with him having a metal skull and everything. “ We can’t play this game anymore” I declared “It would be totally unfair for you to have harder bones than me.” My mother seemed a bit galled that this was the only reason I saw it unfit for the game to be played anymore, but she didn’t protest it too much as it did stop us from ever playing it