Timothy Prive

Timothy Prive
Timothy Prive (Author)

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Big brother, little sister by T. H Rahman


In the middle of the living room on a rainy Sunday afternoon, a little girl, about four years old, sat in a small chair with three of her favorite dolls whom had joined her at a small card table for some tea.

For nearly an hour, Jill quietly played with a tea set. She was having a grand old time and chose to ignore the cartoons airing on the television.

Bored, Jill’s older brother, of about eight, entered the living room and knelt down on the floor across from her. “What are you doing, Jill?” he inquired.

The precious smile on Jill’s face grew the more she played. “Playing with my dolls, and having tea with them,” she answered in a gleeful voice. As she playfully poured tea into the cups, she tilted her head to the side and brushed her long blonde hair from her face to reveal the bluest of eyes. She went around the table and poured the make-believe hot tea into cups.

“Let me have some tea,” Jill’s older brother ordered, as he reached out and picked up a teacup Jill hadn’t filled yet.

“Ok,” Jill merrily stated. “I’ll pour you some tea,” she stated, happy as can be, for she had someone that wanted some tea. A huge smile crossed her face as she picked up the teapot and began to pour into the teacup Jack held in his hand.

Jill looked at her brother with his short, brown hair covering his narrow face. She loved her brother, but knew he was trouble.

Hey Jill, you know what’d be cool?” Jack asked as an awesome idea popped into his head. A sinister smile crossed his face. “It’d be cool if something happened here.”

“Like what?” Jill asked, lost in her own playful world. She wasn’t expecting the unexpected.

“Something like this,” Jack said. He leaned back onto his arms, kicked out with his leg, and knocked over the card table and the entire tea setup.


      With hurt residing in her eyes, Jill watched her dolls tumbled to the floor. “No…,” she cried out at the top of her lungs and then began to cry loudly. She rose from the chair, fell to her knees, and allowed her shoulders to slump.

From the den, Dad yelled, “Hey!” 

At the same time, from out in the kitchen, Mom yelled, “Knock it off.”

Acting innocent, Jack turned his attention to the cartoon that was airing on the television.

Jill lowered her whimpering and began to pick up the table and place the teacups back where they belonged. She began to mumble to her dollies, the words incoherent, too low for other ears to hear.

Due to a commercial break, Jack took his eyes away from the television screen. “Ha, ha, you got yelled at,” he taunted towards his little sister. He looked down to see that Jill had finished setting the teapot and cups back onto the table. For a second time, Jack swung out with his leg and wiped out the card table.

With a look of hurt on her face, Jill cried aloud, “Stop!” Now mad, she sat back on her legs and stated with anger, “You’re a jerk.”

“I’m not a jerk,” Jack stated with a snotty gesture.

“You are a jerk,” Jill stated with attitude, forcefully placing things back to normal.

“I told you not to call me a jerk,” Jack stated as he swatted a teacup from Jill’s hand, sending it flying across the floor.

Slamming her fist onto the floor next to her, Jill was angered. “Stop throwing my stuff, and no you didn’t,” she cried defensively. She retrieved the fallen teacup and slammed it down onto the card table. “You said “I’m not a jerk” you jerk!”

Jack was mad that his little sister was arguing with him, added to the fact that a four year old was correcting him. He smirked as his wounded pride felt the pain. Now it was time to call in the heavy hitters. “Mom,” he yelled, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Jill called me a jerk!” He let the end of the bad word linger from his lips a little longer than normal. He looked at his little sister. “Now you’re in trouble,” he mouthed.

Meanwhile, mom and dad had gathered in the kitchen talking about how their oldest son, Jack, was doing with his schoolwork. Both stopped talking and remained quiet as they heard the commotion in the living room. Listening intently to the words that her son spoke, waiting until he concluded, mom yelled out, “Jill Lee Adams, you come here right now!”

Filled with fear, Jill stood up. She didn’t want to go into the kitchen, but she knew she had too. She picked up her doll for security and began to cry softy, for she knew she was in trouble, but she didn’t understand why.

Dad, whom was mad that Jill insulted someone, was already on his way towards the living room. He met Jill half way through the dining room. He looked straight down at his daughter with anger written clearly across his face. Pointing his finger, shaking it, he made his point clear. “You’d better stop calling people names. That’s bad. Do you want a spanking?”

Jill looked up and tried to defend herself. “But, Jack was…,” she began, but the rest of her words became ignored. She clung ever so tightly to her dolly. In her time of need, she felt her favorite doll was her only friend.

Dad wasn’t going to hear anything Jill had to say. “Quiet,” he growled. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. You’re not supposed to call other people names. Now get in there,” he, ordered as he pointed towards the kitchen to where mom was waiting.

Reluctantly, Jill made her way into the kitchen to stand before mom. She loved her mom with all her heart, but knew mom was the one that handed out the punishments. Please don’t be mad at me mommy, Jill thought.

Mom looked down at Jill, but waited a moment before she began to scold Jill. “I told you to stop screaming, didn’t I?” she stated. “You’re always screaming. You need to knock it off. Do you hear me?” Mom didn’t let Jill answer. She finished by asking, “Do you want timeout?”

Jill bowed her head. “No,” she replied in a mere whisper, glad that she only received a scolding.

“Now,” mom began. “You go back into the living room and play nicely.” She turned back to a magazine lying on the counter and began leafing through it with attitude.

With a pout on her face, Jill did what mom told her to do. As soon as she walked into the living room and with his finger deep in his nose, Jack turned and laughed. “Ha, ha, you got in trouble,” he tauntingly teased. With victory in his posture, he looked away from Jill and back to the cartoons, completely ignoring his little sister.

Jill wanted to retaliate against Jack, but she knew she would be in bigger trouble if she did. Now that mom and dad had yelled at her, and with what Jack had just said, Jill didn’t want to be near her older brother. Sniffling, she collected her tea set. “Shut up,” she muttered under her breath. “Leave me alone.” The doll Jill held closely to her chest, the only one she trusted, and the only one she felt cared, was the only one to hear the words.

After gathering everything, Jill began to become lost in a make-believe tea party.

For several minutes, she played quietly by herself, and soon all the hate, anger, taunting, and teasing was laid aside.

As the cartoon show on the television concluded, Jack decided to go find something else to do. He knelt down next to Jill and asked, “What are doing, Jill?”

In a joyful manner, Jill answered in a happy tone. “Playing with my dolls, and having tea with them.”

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