Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Angry (08/02/07)
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TITLE: She Was So Evil | Previous Challenge Entry
By Larry Carter
08/08/07 -
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“But Mom, she stepped all over my Lego’s!” I cried, gleaming at my mother who refused to bend my sister over her knee. “She’s not even sorry!” I pouted, making it clearly obvious I was upset by the protrusion of my lower lip.
“Son, she didn’t mean to; she is three years younger than you, and she doesn’t know any better, sweetie,” my mother replied. I was sure she had seen the steam fuming from my six-year-old ears, but I was beginning to wonder if she even cared. I was so infuriated with my little sister, and as I beamed into her eyes, they looked like orbs of fire, ready to gun me down if I even thought of moving. She was so evil….
I imagined myself older and, of course, building Lego’s in a large company-like scale. I was in the midst of creating a scale model of a town that I was to build completely out of my colorful bricks of pleasure, when I saw something. My little, three-year-old sister was standing on the production table, gazing at my creation as if she were Godzilla himself. I could have almost sworn that Destruction was her middle name. I couldn’t maintain my breath, and I could sense annihilation drawing closer as my almost finished project was projected from my eyes to hers. A stomping mass of rubble flying from the sky was the first plague, it seems, as she raised her arms in pleasing vice. She then continued her rage of fury by emitting a piercing scream! And by that time I was almost certain that I had become deaf. Finally, her last act of wickedness was initiated as she persisted to kick and destroy my scale model establishment that had been so meticulously constructed. I was outraged at the act that had just occurred. Anger had no bounds on my emotions at this point. And just as I was about to make way for an attack on the devil Herself, my mother appears from the inside the smoke and scoops my sister into her arms and repeats, “Son, she didn’t mean to; she is three years younger than you, and she doesn’t know any better, sweetie.” O, my heart raged inside. My career was over; it was over…
As I faded back into reality, my sister trotted over to where I had been playing. She stared at me as if we were two lone rangers about to engage in a shoot-out. But I stood my ground; I beamed back at her and licked my chapped, six-year-old lips. I demanded, “Not anymore little sister.” She turned her head to check if Mom was there, grinned, and chuckled in that that evil three-year-old chuckle to stab me in the chest. She skipped away, but I was so sure that I would have her next time.
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