*
When my parents walked out the door, I waited patiently with my book on my lap until I heard our garage door meet the concrete floor of our overcrowded garage with a bang. I leapt from my pose on the couch and stole to the window, where I peeked out of the drab curtains, and watched their car drive down the street. I lingered until they were out of sight to ensure they would not return unexpectedly. I possessed a full hour to do whatever I wanted, a full hour of parent-free time. Sprinting to the stereo, which I was forbidden to touch, I cranked the music to its highest available volume.
The house shook with musical vibrations. I pranced into the kitchen, pausing only to get the key to the baby lock connected to the fridge out of a drawer. I nearly ripped the refrigerator door off when I successfully unlocked the confounded device that denied us food. Browsing the different selections, I spotted my favorite treat: cherries. Since I was in such a hurry to shove those delicious cherries into my mouth, I accidentally spilled some of the juice on my shirt. Shoot, I thought, Mom can’t see this. I ripped off my shirt and threw it under the sink.
I reclined on the couch, moments away from plopping one of the cherries in my mouth, when I heard a familiar, high-pitched voice. Slowly I looked up and saw the major flaw in my plan. A devilish smile adorned my sister’s face. Blonde curls bouncing, she leaned her head back and dropped one of my cherries into her mouth. Walking around the couch to face me, she rocked back and forth on her black Mary-Jane’s and said to me in her most innocent of voice, “If you wanna stay out of trouble, you’re gonna do exactly what I say.”
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