I’m quite good at dodging Nerf bullets. I love how everybody thinks “Hey, I got a gun, now I’m the best” until they realize how useless the piece of plastic they’re holding is. So that’s why I was crawling around on the upper floor of my five year old cousin’s house, ducking under tables while my cousin romped around, evidently looking for me. “I’m gonna get you!” he called out, trying his level best to make me reveal myself. When he got no answer, he snorted. “I’m putting the gun down, okay?” he said, holding onto the gun. Suddenly, I had an inspiration. I balled up my hand into a fist and softly thumped the wooden table that I was hiding under. In the pale light of the room, I saw him suddenly spin, searching for the direction of the sound, and take a step forward. Take another step. Please. Just one, I thought. As if he was reading my thoughts, my cousin tentatively took another step forward, and in that moment, I lunged, latching onto his leg. In shock, my cousin staggered backwards and fell down hard on his back, with me falling on top of him. While he was still gasping for breath, I rolled over onto my stomach, pushed myself off of the ground, and ran for it.
“DIE!” my cousin yelled, scrambling to his feet. I had about a two meter head start, but my cousin, being several months older, was faster than me. I saw only wall in front of me and making a quick decision, I dove into the room on my left. Upon hearing a crash, I poked my head out the door and burst out laughing. In front of me, my cousin lay sprawled out on the floor, evidently having run into the wall. Tears streamed down my face as I imagined how it had happened. Suddenly, I gasped as I felt a sharp pain in my shin. Looking down, I saw that my was bleeding where my cousin’s Swiss Army Knife had cut it, while my cousin was laying down on the floor, looking very pleased with himself. I stared at him, shocked by what he had done.
Now, usually I don’t like to get into fights. I prefer to stay out of them. If somebody’s needling me, I try to ignore them. However, when I get mad, I lose control. So, when I looked at the blood dripping down my leg, the bottled-up fury that I keep collecting inside me suddenly started exploding out of me. Every bad thing that I had kept inside me suddenly burst out of me. I charged at him, enraged like an angry bull, yelling “What was that for? What did I do to you?” He shoved me right back, saying “It’s not funny! Be quiet!” I suddenly realized that we were slowly inching our fight over to the stairs. I then decided that I didn’t want to fight. “Okay, fine, I’m sor-” I managed to utter before a fist came smashing into my head. Then, for the second time, I charged at him.
In retrospect, I would’ve definitely changed what I did in the next few seconds. Six years later, I still regret the decision that I made. I know now that I shouldn’t have charged at him. I know that I shouldn’t have attempted to tackle him to the ground. But, I did charge at him, exerting all of my strength to ram my shoulder into his chest. I could feel my shoulder blade knock the wind out of him. However, in mid-hit, I foresaw what was going to happen. I grabbed onto his arm and tried to use my weight to pull him back. We locked eyes, and in that moment, I remembered all the good things he had done for me, all the times he had helped me up off the ground, and I made my decision. We’ll do it together, I thought, and with that final decision made, I allowed my feet to crumble beneath me. My cousin and I fell together, bumping the stairs, and as I was in front, I managed to extend my arm in order to shield us, and a split second before impact, I closed my eyes and braced myself.
The crash. The sound of splintering bone. The pain in my arm almost destroyed me. It could’ve killed me. I was lucky to be alive. Lights spun in front of my face. Concerned faces swerved in and out of view. People were muttering about how I had saved him. I knew deep in my heart that I had saved him.