The Flower Prankster - Original Writing

The Flower Prankster - Original Writing

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The Flower Prankster - Original Writing


It was long past midday and it was nearing the last day of the school
half term break. The sun, a full circle and the colour, strangely, a
dark shade of orange, peeped over the top of the tall chestnut trees
like an anxious child at a window. The shadow it cast gradually slid
itself over the rooftops of the small detached houses situated at the
top of the hill overlooking the dusty gorge. The shadow eventually
moved further out as I stood, five years old, at the glass patio door
waiting for my mother to walk through and lift me from the cold floor.

'Stay inside betha, I am just going outside to pick some flowers
before your dad gets back from work', my mother advised as the sun
shone brightly outside. I was always by my mother's side, 'the
protector'. However, today was different as I stood staring outside,
waiting eagerly for her to come in and make supper. Curiously, I
thought to myself…what if I was to go outside and hide beneath the
wall directly behind my mother and then slowly lift my head so as to
scare her? Would she be scared or would she just shout at me? I
decided to ignore my mother's advice and gently crept out onto the
cold patio, which at this point was shaded, by our tall house from the
bright sunshine.

I gently tip-toed across to the roughened red brick wall and stood
very quietly behind it, so as not to create noise, like a predator
creeping up on its prey. The wall was a tower-like structure just
taller than me, enclosing scented red and white bedding flowers. I
stood very quietly; holding my breath, making sure my mother could not
see me. Then, as she stood midway in the garden between the yellow and
white rose bushes, I very gently began climbing the wall. I placed one
hand on the roughened stone edging and gently lifted myself onto the
edge of the wall, staring mischievously at my mother's back, and then

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with a great urge inside I shouted 'boo'. My mother, surprised, turned
toward me and gasped, I lost my balance on the wall and fell back but
in the motion turned with my back toward my mother and toppled face
first onto the paving stones beneath.

My mother ran toward me but by this time it was too late. The small
paving stones soon became stained deep red as my blood splashed onto
them. I cried with pain as my mother lifted me, muttering the words
'Oh…god please let my son be ok', and immediately took me inside,
carrying with her my two reddened white teeth similar to the colour of
the wall from which I had fallen. As she entered, I looked back toward
my landing spot and cursed it for being there, thinking that if the
ground had been softer, I wouldn't have had such a sudden dramatic
ending to my prank. Once inside, she took me straight into the kitchen
and placed a towel drenched in cold water onto my mouth and held it
tightly with one hand, whilst using her other hand to dial a telephone
number. 'Rajhi, betha has fallen and both of his teeth have come
out…please come home quickly', she said. A quarter of an hour passed
and by this time my mother was frantic with worry as she held me in
her arms stalking the room from left to right. The lock on the front
door turned and my father shouted 'Rani, where's betha?' my mother
replied, 'Rajhi, chalo we need to go to the hospital'. She left the
room, taking with her the two teeth.

As we entered the grounds of the hospital car park, my father asked,
'Why didn't you ring for an ambulance instead of calling me at
work…you could have got to the hospital sooner', my mother replied 'Rajhi,
I don't know, I just wanted K.V. to be ok', I could sense that my
mother at this time was about to break into tears as she left the car
and ran into the Accident and Emergency Department. 'Madam, what's
wrong with the child?' asked the receptionist, 'My son fell and he is
bleeding from his mouth' my mother replied, showing the receptionist
the two bloody teeth. 'Ok, if you wait a while in the waiting area,
I'll get one of the nurses to take a look at him', said the
receptionist.

We waited for a while and by this time my father had come in also,
'What did reception say?' my father asked, 'She said to wait to see
one of the nurses', replied my mother. 'Madam, can you bring him this
way please so we can take a look at your son', my mother walked toward
the nurse and frantically began to explain how I fell from the wall.
'Madam…madam…I know you are worried but I can assure you we shall do
the best for your son', the nurse explained as my mother very
carefully placed my helpless body onto the bed and stepped back. My
mouth felt sore, as though somebody had placed salt in my mouth. I
began to cry and my mother hugged me again. The nurse then explained
that nothing was wrong and that only a few stitches would be needed.
This brought about a calming in such a tense moment for my parents and
myself. A few weeks passed and my wounds began to repair, which
brought a sense of relief to me as otherwise, it was increasingly
difficult to pronounce particular syllables and letters, without the
frequent annoying lisp.
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