The cruelest thing I did to my younger sister

was being immature.
We used to live in a house with rails around the stairs
that connected to the basement.

There was a couch in front of those rails
which I decided to sit on the very top of one day.
I called out to my sister
saying that it was so fun to be high up.

My sister still being in her terrible twos
thought that it looked like a fun idea too.
She crawled to the top of the couch
and started waving her hands in delight.

All the sudden she lost her balance
and slipped off the top of the couch
over the rail
down one floor she went.

It happened so fast
there was a loud thunk of her head
then silence.

My heart stopped.

I froze.

Cold sweat
trickled down my back.

Very soon I heard a wail
that was very weak at first
but soon escalated into a powerful cry

I had a slight rush of relief
that my poor sister was still alive.

My mother came rushing down in a hurry
hearing her cries of pain.
She carried my sister in her arms
as I told her about the fall.

Soon we were in a roaring ambulance
the doctors said she would be okay
but we needed to make sure
that she could still see the light of day.

I kept quiet.

I did not whine to my mother
that I was hungry
or that I wanted to sleep
or that we had not fed our cats yet.

The guilt I felt
for having shown my sister something so lame
was pulling me down
into endless blame.