HOLE IN THE WALL
As I had said
earlier I was a terrible teenager but I guess it started before my teenager
years. When I was younger, I can’t remember exactly how old I was but as always
I was in trouble. I was sent to my room and told to stay there until further notice.
I threw one of my usual fits, kicking, screaming, throwing things and yelling.
I figured if I was in solitaire confinement I would do the time but everyone was
going to hear about how displeased I was with it. As I yelled every bad word I
knew and threw books against the back of my bedroom door I felt like my point
of being unhappy about being in my room wasn’t getting across to my family. (
I don’t know why I was so upset about being sent to my room, I had a computer,
a tv with cable, every Disney movie known to man at the time.)
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| Crazy ass teenager... Halloween! |
Trying to drive
the point home about being mad and angry I thought kicking the wall would make
a loud bang and drive them as mad as I was. So I started kicking, and it was
working. It made a loud bang over and over again I kept kicking even though it
was starting to hurt my bare foot. I didn’t care if my foot was going to fall I
was going to keep kicking. Over and over again until…
My foot went
straight though the wall. I stopped and looked at the huge hole terrified that
I was never going to be released from my bedroom cell when they see what I had
done. I stood still like a statue and stared at the hole thinking of my
options. Jump out my bedroom window and keep running? Plug the hole with a
shirt and paint it the wall colour? Sit in front of the hole for the rest of my
life? Pay for a repair man with my piggy bank money?
Realizing I was
screwed and crying hysterically I stood staring at the hole in the wall that would
undoubtedly put an end to my short life.
My parents must have known something was wrong when all the noise coming from
my bedroom had stopped suddenly. The gold handle on my bedroom door started
opening and before I knew it my dad was standing in my room right in front of
me. I started backing up against the opposite wall behind me still crying
hysterically and now hyperventilating. My dad stood in the same spot staring at
me and asking me what was wrong. I couldn’t speak I could hardly breath. After
my father repeatedly asking me what was wrong I tried to explain what I had
done but all that would come out in between sobs was “Ahhaaa haha ahhh haha” It
was me laughing nervously between cries and hyperventilating.
Finally my dad
started laughing probably because I was a total basket case by that time.
Finally I looked down and was staring at the large hole I had kicked in the
wall. My dad still wasn’t getting the hint so I raised my arm, made a first and
pointed at the hole holding my breath waiting for the death sentience to be
handed down to me. After what felt like forever my dad looked at the hole then
back at me and again to the hole. My dad laughed looking at me and told me
“That’s what your freaking out about? Don’t worry about it I’ll fix it
tomorrow.” He turned to walk away and I let out a deep sigh of relief. I
couldn’t believe I wasn’t dead. My dad had been so cool about it, to this day
I’m still not sure why he didn’t react more maybe it was because the hole
wasn’t that big of a deal. It was something my dad was capable of fixing no
problem. Maybe it was because he wanted to leave the room so he could laugh
even more. I like to think that it was because in those few minutes from when
I created the hole until my dad walked out of my room was a big enough
punishment on it’s own. Either way I’ll always remember that day and how my
surprised I was by how my dad handled the situation.
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