I never thought I would forgive him. I think there will always be a part of me that resents him for what he did. But over the years I have come to the realization that it was just as much my fault as it was his. It might even be more my fault because I was the one who jumped.
Everything about that day is still fresh in my mind. Mom was on a conference call and my brother, Conner, and I had to find something to do outside. Conner sat on the porch and played with his game boy, leaving me to fend for myself. After wandering around for a bit, I stumbled across the old three-wheeled golf cart dad had brought home a few day before. Without even thinking I grabbed the keys and hopped in.
After about 20 minutes of driving, Conner noticed and came to join me. He jumped in as I passed pushing me into the passenger seat. We had been driving for a while when I told Conner that I wanted to go inside. He gave me his sinister smile and told me that he wasn’t going to stop and that I would just have to jump. I was astonished at his response yelling at him to let me out, but that just made him speed up.
He kept yelling at me to jump and when I would say no, he'd move toward me until I was on the edge. By then I had had enough I stood up waiting for the long stretch of grass. With Conner yelling at me to jump I shut my eyes and jumped and right as I did I heard Conner yell wait.
I was in disbelief as I hit the ground noticing that only half of my body had made it onto the grass. As I turned my head to see where Conner was, I saw the golf cart come in contact with my foot then felt a sharp pain. It took 5 minutes of screaming to finally get Conner to give up on the whole 'walking it off ' idea and get mom and dad. They took me to the hospital where all they did was scrub the gravel from my foot and informed us that my ankle had been broken.
I didn’t speak to my brother for three months because I was so infuriated with him. He didn’t even get into trouble...