My Brother - By Jeremy Wilson
Chapter 6
As Jonathan and I grew up, I thought he was getting more reasonable. But little did I know, he was tacking a long time to prepare his new attack... He had probably run out of ideas after everything he had done to me. One day I was out at a party, I was eight and Jonathan six. When I got back home, I went up to my room who was and still is on the second floor. As I opened the door this great big pot of red paint came shooting down on my head. I screamed in the hole house alerting the neighbours as well. As my mum and dad arrived they had quite a fright as they thought it was my head who was bleeding and not a pot of red paint. As soon as that happened Jonathan came running up saying:
-why did you fall in your own trick, you ttold me that I mustn't go in your room because something would fall on "my head."
As I was half knockout I couldn't defend myself in saying it was not true. It was too late my parents were already shouting at me for the red paint on the carpet and to have had such a stupid idea. The carpet was changed in the hall and in my room with my money that I had got for my eight birthday who is on the 2nd of August. It was so mean, sorry to repeat it once again but what could I do about it, nothing. I could shout and scream the truth, nobody would take any interest in me. I also paid dads pot of paint.
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