Day 18: Childhood story

Day 18: Tell a story from your childhood. Dig deep and try to be descriptive about what you remember and how you felt.

My most remembered memory is when my mother caught me smoking. Right next to the apartment buildings where all of my friends and I lived, we had an old abandoned old house that was destroyed during the war. The only thing left of the house was the outside skeleton. My friend and I stole a couple of cigarettes from our mothers, cause we thought we were the shit and they'd never find out. We went into the old house, and climbed up the stairs to the second floor balcony. The balcony didn't have any bars so it was completely open, but if you sat up against the wall, no one from the bottom could see you.

But they could hear you..

Here comes my mother screaming out my name. Standing downstairs trying to catch a peek of the upstairs balcony. She hears me. I know she does because all I hear is "Gabriela, I know you're up there" and a few choice Bosnian cuss words. So, Gorana and I put out our cigarettes. We put gum in our mouths and we walked downstairs cool, calm and collected. Nothing happened. We weren't doing anything wrong.

Prove it!!!

My mother grabs my arm, and drags me home. On the way up to our apartment, she is smacking my legs with the smallest switch (little, tiny, skiny branch of a tree) she could find. Those hurt worse than if she had smacked me with the entire tree. They sting your skin just enough to make those crocodile tears well up in your eyes. What hurt worse than the switch? My mother telling me she's disappointed.

Oh man. How can a child ever recover from a comment like that?

Later on, she realizes she has no proof so she doesn't punish me further (after all, my mother is fair). When my sister comes home, mom lets her know what's going on, as if the disappointment of one family member wasn't enough.

Let me rewind here a bit. The "old house" was next to the apartment building. The supermarket called "Red Apple" was in front of our apartment building. (this piece of information is important)

Okay, continuing the story. Mom tells Manuela that I was smoking and that she caught me. Manuela smiles because she already knew it. They discuss the story and it goes something like this:

Mom: Did you know your little sister has been smoking?

Manuela: Had no idea.

Mom: I caught her and her little friend behind the supermarket.

Manuela: Really? The supermarket, Gabi? (turns and looks at me)

Mom: Yeah! I don't know where she got the cigarettes. She must have taken them from me. But the supermarket. Everyone will see her and then what will people say?

Manuela:... (just stares at me)

THE INJUSTICE!!!! She was telling my sister the story wrong. Not behind the supermarket. How dare she get the most important day of my rebellious life wrong? The first time I did something to get punished for and my mother MESSES up the story? Of course, the conversation between them continued for another 5-10 minutes about me smoking behind the supermarket.

And before I knew it, my mouth opened and it formed words.  "I WAS NOT SMOKING BEHIND THE SUPERMARKET. I WAS SMOKING ON THE BALCONY OF THE OLD HOUSE!!!"

Mom and Manuela: (are now dying of laughter because I have told on myself)

She didn't punish me. She was laughing too hard.

Mom: 1                  Gabi: 0


Great memory!