The Fate of the Balloon

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“Watch out!” A dark-haired boy cried out as a girl came tumbling down the stairs. Thud. The girl fell. The boy rushed to her, knocking down the chairs as he rushed toward her.

“Steve!” His mother scolded disapprovingly. She hurried over to join him, she too, knocking down chairs as she made her way through.

Suddenly, a high pain stricken voice filled the air, the young girl was crying as she rubbed her bruised head. The glass frames seemed to rattle from is hanging spot on the wall, whether it was the girl’s cry of pain or the impact of the fallen chairs.

“Don’t cry little Ann. It’s okay.” Steve comforted his little sister. He picked her up and handed her to their mother.

“Are you okay?” Ann’s mother asked. “Does your head hurt?”

“Yes!!!” Ann wailed, “My balloon is stuck on the ceiling!!” Overwhelmed with pain and sadness over her little lost, she pounded her fist on her mother’s shoulder.

“Ann!” Steve warned, “Don’t pound on mother like that. I’ll help you get the balloon back.”

The little girl look up, her eyes were swollen, “Really?” she sniffled, her eyes shining with hope.

“Yes, I can,” her brother sighed, nodding his head. He started to walk up the stair, as Ann pushed her mother away and shoved her tiny hands into her dress pockets.

Steve looked up and commented, “The balloon is up real high.”

His sister looked up, tears welling in her eyes, threatening to spill at any given moment.

“N-not that I can’t reach it of course.” he stammered. With that said, Ann beamed up at him.

“Work hard to get my balloon back!” Ann called up, “I need to perform my trick with it!”

“Uh-huh..” Steve muttered.

Climbing on a stool, he stood up and tugged on the string of bright red balloon away from the ceiling. Smiling, he climbed down holding the balloon like it was a prized trophy.

“Are you done yet?” Ann called from below, “I want my balloon.” Ann started to whine and whine. She seemed pretty desperate to get the bright red balloon.

“Ann, I got your balloon!” Steve called out, humored that even at a time like this, Ann still cared for her balloon and not whether or not he might fall down.

“Yay!” she cried cheerfully, running up the stairs to retrieve her balloon. As she reached the top, her brother had already got off the stool and was holding out her balloon.

“Now, now Ann, you must always remember to watch where your going even if you’re trying to catch something.” Steve preached.

“Uh-huh,” Ann replied. “Give me my balloon and I’ll show you the trick!”
Sighing, Steve handed over the balloon. Ann grinned. Shoving her hand into her pocket she took out a shiny pin and with a swift poke at the balloon the balloon popped loudly.

“HAH. Wasn’t that cool?,” Ann asked.

Steve stood there speechless, as he watched his younger sister grinning at him, giggling every now and then.





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