”Shut up yourself!” Mum exploded.
”Cut it out!” Dad exploded.
In my family we argued about almost every little thing. There was no way that one day would pass without an argument. My mum and me were the worst. I could quarrel with her for hours. She never understood me. Right now, we were arguing about who was going to pick up my little sister at nursery school.
“I did it last time!” I yelled.
“You did not! Yesterday you spent all day hanging out with Melanie!” my mum shouted in my face.
I became quiet, before I continued;
“Anyway – I don’t want to! I am not the parent in this house!”
My father always tried to stay out of our fights, but sometimes he had to intervene.
“I’ll pick her up today,” he said, and pointed at me, “but tomorrow you´ll have to do it!”
“Fine,” I muttered, and went to my room. Inside I was boiling with anger. My mother was a thorn in my side. I had bought a t-shirt last week just to annoy her.
Melanie and I were on the shopping centre, and I saw this completely chic t-shirt. There was a text on it saying: If you think I’m a bitch, wait until you meet my mother. When I got home, my mum went nuts.
“You can’t wear that!” she said to me, “People will think I am insane if I let you wear it!”
“It´s mine. I bought it!”
“Yes, but with my money!”
We talked louder and louder. And I unfortunately agreed not to use the t-shirt.
But right now, I raked it up, and wore it like a protest.
Then I laid down on my bed, and burst into tears.
I heard someone knocking on the door.
“Come in,” I said, and in came my dad.
“Hey pal,” he said, “How are you doing?”
I was on the verge of tears, but tried to hold them back.
"Why does it always have to centre around me?" I asked sadly.
"You know your mother, right?"
"Yes, she's a..."
"Don't say it..." he stopped me, "Bitch?"
"Yes, exactly!" I said, and suspected some support.
"Well - don't say that! That is impertinent!" my dad explained to me.
"In that case..." I started, "I was hoping you were coming to support me, but no. Leave this room now, please!"
My dad was confused and insulted, and nearly ran out.
"I'm going to talk to your mother about you two," he said, "You have to make up."
"I don't want to," I shouted after him.
He didn’t hear, because he was on his way to pick up my sister, Madeleine. When she got home, the fight started again…
“Stephanie?” she said, “Stephanie?”
“Stop nagging!” I shouted, and I saw that Madeleine had the lump in her throat.
My mum was starring with an icy look.
“OK, fine, what is it?” I said to my little sister.
I knew she was going to poke fun at me.
“Why are you always so mad at mum?”
I hated that question. She always said that when she wanted to tease me. Now I wanted to hit her, but of course I was not going to. Yet I pretended that I was going to. She was frightened and burst into tears.
“Mum, Stephanie tried to hit me!” she sobbed, and looked at mum with an innocent gaze.
“Stephanie!” now she was furious.
“I did not!” I tried, but my mother just pointed at the stairs, “I’m afraid I have to ground you!”
“You’re kidding, right?” I said.
“No, go to your room immediately.”
“What?! This is just stuff and nonsense! I didn’t even try to hit her,” Of course I did, but my mum never believed me, so it didn’t matter if I lied once.
It was always that way. Madeleine always got it her way.
So there I was - grounded.
When my mum came up, and told me to make dinner – I got mad as a wet hen.
"I am not going to make dinner!" I tried to stay calm.
"You are just going to take some pizza out of the freezer, and put it in the stove," she said, and surprised me by not being angry.
She looked at me with a fallow deer-look. Then she caught sight of something. Guess what? My t-shirt. It´s so typical! When my mother and I was about to become friends, I had to wear that stupid t-shirt, and ruin everything.
"Why are you wearing that?" she said, and now her voice was metallic.
I did not answer.
"Why?"
"Because we had a fight earlier, and I was mad at you..." I said.
"I told you to return it to the store!" she said, "Why didn´t you do that?"
I told her it was because I wanted to keep it - It made me feel better because I was mad at her.
She said it was OK, but asked me to put it away.
The following day we started again. Now the quarrel was about the bathroom. I ran into it before Madeleine. And she was standing on the outside, hammering on the door.
“Let me in!” she said.
I was inside, smiling. Finally I was the first to occupy the bathroom. I used the curling iron, put on makeup, and fixed my nails, just to spend extra time. When I came out, both of my parents started to yell at me about two different things. They didn’t notice that Madeleine went into the bathroom herself, before she let out a scream.
We all hurried into her, and saw her lying on the floor, with her hand almost burned up. We were all very confused in the beginning, but my dad came to sense, and called the ambulance. It felt like hours, until it came with to competent nurses. My mum, dad and I felt really bad for what had happened. We had been so busy arguing that we all had forgot little Madeleine.
Especially me – it was my fault, because I left the curling iron without pulling out the plug.
Luckily everything was all right with Madeleine after a couple of weeks with plaster cast.
We have now all learnt something in my family. We don’t argue so much anymore – we try to solve the problems by talking, and not yelling. And we probably take more care of each other.
Dette var min stil :)
Skolestil i engelsk på torsdag (25.09)