DING- DONG! The doorbell rings, and my older sister, Rachel climbs down from her bunk bed.She jumps off the last rung of the ladder and makes her way towards the door.
“Where are you going, Rach?”, I ask quizzically. We’re supposed to be asleep,and my 1st grade brain is telling me this is not a good idea.
“To spy on them, of course!”, she replies. But that’s Rachel for you. I get out of bed cautiously, like my parents might come upstairs, when I knew they wouldn’t.
Should I follow her?, I think. Maybe, but I’ll get in trouble if I do, the innocent part of my mind contradicts. Eh, they might never find out, my mind finalizes. I walk out of my ultra-hot pink room into the medium-sized hallway.
I hear voices, and over exaggerated laughter drifting up from the living room.I start to doubt myself, but don’t get very far. “Shhh,” Rachel warns. I nod, and then crouch down beside her. I think some newfound energy sprouted up from somewhere deep inside me, and I decide to stay here for as long as possible. I am crouching on my toes, and then I lean even further down to see our guests.
There is slight crack above the railing that is visible because the floor of the media room upstairs also serves as the ceiling for the living room downstairs. If I lean really far down, I can see a lot more through the beams supporting the railing. I lean so far, my body is almost horizontal with the stairs. If I lean any more, I will start rolling, and the stairs will give as much mercy to me as the desert does to a tumbleweed. And I am sure if I fall down the stairs, that’s what it will feel like: like I am a tumbleweed. I listen to the conversation going on downstairs, and then my sister taps my shoulder.
I lose my balance, since I am crouching on my toes, and leaning so far out isn’t helping me as I start rolling down the stairs. With each step I hit, my back feels like it just got slammed into a brick wall. The once comfy and soft carpet on our stairs have become, well, not that comfy after about 7 years of living here. And the smell, UGH! It was disgusting! I could smell all the dust and the stinky smell of feet accumulated after a long time. I release a yelp, and then bite down hard on my tongue, too hard I know, after I taste the bitter, metallic taste of my blood. I hear the wind whooshing in my ears, and my once halfway view of the living room turns into a blurry whirl as I see the world spin in fast circles as I finally roll to a stop at the first landing, but not a peaceful stop. I slam into the railing, and then stop.
My mom and dad rush over, along with our guest. My mom is the first to speak, and even she can only muster the simple question, “Are you okay?” Rachel is still at the top of the stairs, staring at me, open-mouthed. My parents apply Bengay to my back after interrogating me with questions. After about 5 minutes, Rachel gets over her shock, pushes herself up from the ground, and sprints downstairs, apologizing so fast I think she might have drank an entire liter of Sprite. Trust me, it’s happened before.
Well, after my parents tuck me in again, for the final time today, I can’t help thinking that, Hey! At least I didn’t get in trouble!