I Am 11

I am eleven years old. It’s a Saturday night and me and my sister are at our dad’s. To be more accurate I’m under the window of the bedroom we share, reading a comic while my sister is on the other side of the bedroom door trying to get in. Doing his best to prevent this from happening is Greg Brown.

I hate Greg Brown. Right from the first time I met him, which was only a few months back, I knew he was bad news. There’s just something about him, something I can’t quite put my finger on. You know how kids in American films can be unbearably smug, like little adults? Well that’s how Greg Brown is. All the swagger of a cocaine yuppie in the body of an eleven-year old from Vange.

Anyway, Greg’s mum and our dad have been seeing each other for most of the summer, which is how Greg has ended up in our orbit. My sister is only seven-years old, but she already has the family temper and she’s not happy about being kept out of her own bedroom. I’ve told Greg to just let her in, but there’s no telling Greg anything. Greg knows best, what Greg wants Greg gets etcetera.

By now my sister is screaming the house down. I look up from my comic and ask him again to just let her in. He won’t have it though. Like I said, Greg knows best. He’s leaning against the door at a 45 degree angle, shoulder firmly wedged in place. I glance back at my comic and then it happens, my sister stops wailing. For a fraction of a second everything goes quiet, I look up just in time to see Greg Brown fly across the room as my dad bursts through the door. He’s not happy. I can tell by the look on his face, but just in case anyone is in any doubt about how annoyed he is he’s shouting. This isn’t going to end well, I think, as he storms past Greg to the opposite end of the room where I’m sitting.

“I didn’t do anything,” I start to explain, but he’s having none of it. He lifts me up only to slap me back onto the ground.

“PLAY TOGETHER,” he screams, picking me up and punching me to the floor, “DON’T WIND UP YOUR SISTER.” He slaps me around the face a couple of times and then just as suddenly as he arrived, he’s gone.

I lay on the floor trying to get my breath back as my sister finally makes it into the room. The look on Greg’s face is priceless, it was almost worth all that just to see him wear a different expression.

My sister closes the bedroom door behind her and I push myself up off the floor, propping myself back up in my original position against the wall. We all look at each other in a did-that-really-just-happen sort of way, then start laughing.

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