Hanging Out

Yazdon Taghinia

5 years ago at summer time, when the sun was actually hot for once in Scotland, instead of constantly having it there to blind you while the chilling wind would bite your face, I was supposed to be enjoying the day, soaking in the suns rays and relaxing. But to be honest, what the day turned out to be isn't what I had in mind. My brother dared me to climb up a tree he repeatedly managed to scale, and kept on telling me I was too scared (which I was but I never told him that). I decided to have a crack at it, and I did eventually get to the top, however, my brother had gotten bored, which I thought was stupid, since he told me to do it. I was just stuck up the tree there, and one of the branches had snapped on the way up. I was terrified. I was yelling my head off to get the attention of anyone to help me get down, but no one heard me. My next door neighbour actually came out of his house and looked around for a while, but he never decided to actually look at where the sound was coming from. I eventually got tired of waiting up there and thought I could get down myself. I was wrong. I had misplaced my foot, swung round the branch, and ended up upside down, hanging from a tree.

5 or 6 hours later I am not sure, my dad came home from work and I decided to have another go at it. I yelled at him, and he thankfully noticed. He went to phone the fire department to get me down with one of their ladders, while I was left still shaking up there in the cold dark, freezing my skin off. I was actually scared my hands would go so numb and I would fall down, hopefully not to my death. About twenty or something minutes later (I was so annoyed at how long they took) the fire department came. Their ladder wasn't big enough, so they had to get one of their men to go about ¾ of the way there, and then climb the rest of the way up, grab me, and climb down again. They couldn't do that either. It was 12 o'clock at night when I was eventually taken down from the tree. I asked my brother why in the world he didn't tell my mother where I was and he said she told him I was outside. Well I was but I thought he was stupid for not remembering where exactly I was. My mother didn't seem too bothered though.

The next couple of days I was in a mood with my parents and brother, more so with my parents as I used any excuse to start a fight with my brother, and my parents would split it up. I would run around doing what I wanted, and making a mess, not eating my food, because I was so mad at them. I mean, how would you feel if someone you knew like the back of your hand went and left you in a situation like mine. To be honest, I still didn't think my parents cared too much. Until I decided to go with a key to my dad's car, and make a scratch right down the side of it. My dad came out furious at me, asked me why I did it, and thought my brother's answer to me would suffice, which was standing there quiet and not saying anything. It didn't. I got a beating and was sent to my room, laughing my head off.

2 weeks later, my parents decided it was time to set things right. I didn't though. They came into my room, and I slammed the door in their faces, literally. They were boiling mad, so I locked the door fast, and went under my covers while they banged on the door. The next day I decided it was enough so I went downstairs, into the kitchen, and I just sat there and ate my dinner with them, and they didn't do anything at all. I thought then, well, if things are this easy, I may as well keep it that way. We get along fine now, though I still don't trust my brother to remember very important things.