Broken Balustrade Brother
















I skidded to a stop at the top of the staircase, leaning over the balustrade to hurl abuse at my idiotic brother.

         ‘What the hell is wrong with you?!’ I screeched, immediately aware that I was the picture of a stereotypical teenager and way too annoyed to care. ‘Stay out of my room!’

         Okay, that one was pretty cliched.

         ‘I wasn’t in your room!’ he called back up to me, with a stupid little smirk. For a moment – multiple moments – I considered vaulting the banister and violently wiping the look off his face.

         ‘Well, somebody was in there,’ I seethed. ‘And nobody else is home!’

         ‘Wow!’ he laughed, drawing out the syllable. ‘You managed to crack that case?’

         I saw red. I literally saw the colour red, flashing across my vision, at the exact moment that my soul left my body and I fully lost control. In hindsight, I’m honestly not sure how I avoided breaking the glass balustrade – Melbourne probably heard the feral cry I let loose.

         My brother must have picked up on my deep fury, and a funny look crossed his face. Something primal kicked into gear, and he booked it away from the staircase.

         Still cognisent enough that I was going to get yelled at if I broke anything, I took the stairs carefully – two at a time, obviously, but still carefully. Once I reached the bottom, I flew down the hallway, chasing my brother’s footsteps.

         ‘I’m gonna tear you apart!’ I roared.

         ‘Only if you can catch me!’ he giggled, his death wish firmly re-attached. I honed in on the sound, cornering him in the bathroom.

         I forced my blood pressure to drop slightly – I didn’t know any companies that specialise in glass replacement near me, so I figured it was best not to shatter anything.

         ‘Truce?’ my brother chuckled nervously, peeking out from behind the shower curtain.

         ‘Sure,’ I said, grinning icily. ‘One demand, though.’


         Stay the hell out of my room!