When I was a child, I lived with my mom, dad, and five brothers. At nine years old, I had an unforgettable experience. Although being the only daughter, I was quite a tomboy. One morning, as my dad prepared for work, he told my younger brother and me to finish our homework and chores before going out to play. Nonetheless, we decided to ignore his instructions and give more importance to playing outside instead of taking care of our duties.
My dad’s friend had recently acquired a new bus, which prompted my brother and me to embark on a whimsical joyride. While we were enjoying our time on the bus, we unexpectedly spotted our dad at the taxi stand. We assumed he had already hailed a cab for his commute. In that instant, my brother disembarked while I opted to remain onboard. I requested the bus driver to let me off at the same taxi stand.
Upon catching sight of me, my dad questioned why I wasn’t home completing my household tasks. Unfortunately, I couldn’t provide him with an explanation. Meanwhile, my brother was experiencing anguish and crying out in pain. My dad and I swiftly rushed over to assist him.
My dad was incredibly angry when my brother chose to leap off the bus and we both ignored our responsibilities. In retaliation, my dad brought us to the hospital where we spent a long four hours in the emergency room. Due to his careless behavior, my brother ultimately ended up with a fractured hand. Eventually, after leaving the hospital, my dad took us to our preferred restaurant where he stressed the importance of paying attention, particularly given my brother’s injury. Ever since then, I always remember the incident of my brother’s bus jump.
