Jamal

• Elke Howell, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2010

Jamal falls. For a few seconds, there’s silence, darkness. Then the screams start. I burrow further under my red doona, hoping the lights don’t turn on. Hoping it’s not as loud as I think it is. Hope is all I have. The lights flicker. I try to be asleep, to look innocent.
The emergency room is scarier than last time. It’s as if all eyes are pointing at me, screaming and accusing.
I thought revenge would feel sweeter. I thought that for all my suffering I would have something to show. I didn’t mean to hurt Jamal like this. I want him to learn his lesson.
Ever since I was 3, Jamal has climbed downstairs to my bedroom, to my special place. He has climbed up the ladder and onto me, while I was sleeping.
Every night.
Every single night for the past nine years. That is why I tried to stop him.
I only gave him a little nudge, obviously enough though, to send him hurtling to the floor. I think something was telling me not to do it. But I didn’t listen.

The doctor comes in. He calls us in. I stay, stuck to my seat. I can’t do it. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want them to know what I did.
I run - out the door. My mum calls after me. I can feel my heart beating, louder than I have ever heard it. But I still run - into the darkness.
Into the night…

I finally find the spare key. My fingers shake uncontrollably as I try to wedge it into the keyhole. The keyhole is the only thing between me and making it to safety.
I sprint into the house and turn on lights blindly. I can’t see through my tears. My fingers find their way around the house, to my bedroom.
Ouch! I feel my toe. It’s wet. I lick my salty finger, but I don’t stop. I carefully find the first step. I forgot to turn the light on at the top of the flight of stairs. I now have a choice. I can risk going up the stairs again in the dark, or I can keep going towards my ladder.
I decide to try and find the ladder.
I reach out. I hear a sound. Not a big clunk or anything, but just a little, timid noise coming from the kitchen.
I see a sliver of light coming from behind me. I try to hide but I stumble. I see everything at once. Jamal, all bandaged. Mum, with him. The last thing I see before I fall asleep on the ground is a little trickle of red coming from my ankle.
Today, Mum has given us both the day off school, to catch up on sleep. I love days like this.
I am about to play a joke on Jamal, when something tells me not to.
I listen.