Memory Lane

Rachel Millar

One memory thats always stuck in my mind (since day one) is one of me and my little brother Grant. I was eight and he was six, it was a sunny summers day just and we were out in the back garden playing with a set of shiny blue plastic golf clubs my little brother got for his eighth birthday.

We had been playing for a good few hours and to be fair I thought I was rather good. I got overly confident and took a real swing at it and it hit off the fence, bounced back and cracked my little brother square on the head. All expression fell from his face and he hit the ground with a thud. I let out a scream as I saw a huge egg rise on his forehead and a horrible sick like feeling began to swell in my belly.

I ran into the house and tried to explain to my mum what had happened but I was getting all my words muddled up because I was in such a rush trying to spit it out. I just grabbed my mums arm and pulled her put into the back garden her face went white. She picked him up and carried him into the kitchen and sent me for an ice pack and her car keys. I felt so bad I had just put my little brother out cold and he was only six years old. ... (continues)