Even More Real life screwups!

Things were hard having a best friend and a boyfriend, especially when you had to try and spend time with both of them. She felt as if I didn’t need her anymore, as if my boyfriend came first and that was never the case. I needed her more than a fish needs water, she was my best friend. The worst point about this fight was that it started in high school, the time you need your best friend the most. How in the world could she think that I didn’t need her? She started distancing herself from me and I just couldn’t understand why. I tried my hardest to talk to you and to spend time with her but she didn’t feel the same way. It hurt me to think that she didn’t want anything to do with me but in her mind I guess she thought I didn’t want anything to do with her. The more that happened the worst things started to get.

We started fighting, and those fights when on for days. She felt I was blaming her for the one being rude and the one distancing herself from me. Who wouldn’t feel that way when your best friend acts like she wants nothing to do with you? She said that I was neglecting her for everyone else, and me with a temper shot right back at her. The thing that got me most was I didn’t even know why we were fighting. I did things that made her mad and she did things that made me mad but we just let it get to us and it kept getting worse and worse. We fought every night for a month and it broke me in two. I’d stay up for hours crying to my mom asking her what I ever did to her, I was trying my hardest to be a good friend. It was one of the hardest things ever had to go through, it was like a knife in my chest.

We tried working it out and that lasted about a month and we had another huge fight. It got to the point that it was hard being in the same room as her. At that point I just didn’t want to be her friend anymore because I felt as if she changed into a girl that I didn’t even know. But again we worked things out. Its hard not having your best friend there and its hard when you want someone to run to but I guess that I was meant to be the way it went. We still get along now and we try and work it out but we still have our rough patches that won’t ever change. I tell myself if I could take back the things that were said and the things that were did I would but at the same time I wouldn’t. This has made me a better person and made me learn to become a better friend."

Samantha

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"Lots of boys go through a stage of being pyro-maniacs. A true tomboy, I did also. It was just my younger brother Kyler and I. My little sister was asleep in her bed. It was late out, but we couldn't force ourselves to go to bed. Now, my mom loved candles, so there were candles lit up all over the house. On the counter was one with a particularly large flame spouting out. Kyler walked over to the candle and started throwing things to melt in it. Not wanting to miss out, I started to put things in it too. We put in toothpicks, pocket lint, and wax from other candles. Kyler grabbed a piece of paper and lit it aflame.

"Look at me!" he said. "I own fire!"
Not to be outdone, I grabbed what I thought was paper. I stuck it over the flame and all was good... for about five seconds. The flame was spreading way quicker than a normal piece of paper. Then I realized I grabbed a tissue instead of paper. The flame continued to eat the tissue alive. It reached my fingers. I squealed in pain and threw the flame on the floor. The flame started to incinerate the carpet.

"Kyler! Help me get the flame out!" I scanned the room for water of any sort. Lucky me, we had a fishbowl full of water. I raced for the bowl and poured it on the flaming monster. A large black spot was all that remained. Not wanting Mom to find out about my accident, I covered the black spot with a rug. I thought I was good to go. Then we had to move. After my mom started packing things up, she found the black spot under the rug. She asked what happened. I played dumb, knowing she wouldn't suspect me of playing with fire. But brothers will be brothers. Kyler ratted me out. I got grounded for two weeks from every possible enjoyment I could have."

Ashley

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I had it all planned out. What I was going to hang on the walls, what to put in it, and what we were going to play in it. Well I was almost finished so I decided to pound a nail in the wall right where I wanted a picture. My dad decided that we would take the playhouse on the trailer, behind the lawnmower, up our hill, so I could finish it up closer to the house.

My younger brother wanted to ride in the back of the trailer because it is very amusing to a 4 year old. We get halfway up the hill and the trailer started to tip to the side due to the imbalance of weight in the back of the trailer. It tipped all the way over and of course, the nail I pounded in was right on the side the trailer started to tip so the nail was jammed right into my little brothers forehead and he had to be taken to the ER. I felt so bad about it because I thought it was all my fault. My mom tried to tell me it wasn't but I didn't believe her. But as I got older I realized that it really wasn't my fault and I finally stopped apologizing to my brother."

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"Watching the television I pondered the fact; why did Marlin go over the trench. As I was watching the movie my sister walked into the room.
“Can you leave please?” I asked politely.
“But I want to watch,” she said not enunciating clearly.
I began to lose patience; I tried to push the two year old out of the room. After that epic fail I managed to convince her that this show wasn’t good for her. As I led her out of the room she suddenly slammed the door in my face. I yelled and screamed at her begging her to let me in and finish the show. I managed to get back in, but I had only revenge in my mind. I locked the door from the inside which left my sister locked in the room. After a few minuets I explained to her how to get out. She turned the lock but it wouldn’t budge.
“Try it again!” I said frantically
Alas the lock still would not budge. Panicking I ran down the stairs as my little sister was screaming. I bolted outside the door and into the woods and sat in the fetal position crying. After I regained my composer, I started to look for a suitable place I could live. I found the perfect spot; although the leaves were wet and the bugs were huge it would have to do. I slept the evening fantasizing about how my mom would freak out when my sister could not get out. I woke up in the evening to someone yelling my name. I looked up and it was my dad with my sister clutching his hand. I was so happy that my sister got out, but I felt so bad that to this day I still can’t stop forgiving her. My dad looked at me sternly and said.
“You really were going to sleep here?” My Dad asked half mad and half laughing. I looked at the ground as he seized my arm and forcefully pulled into the house."

Jesse

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5)
"When i was still young enough that i didn't think before climbing to the top of a tree without the knowledge or experience to get down i did. It was about noon one Saturday and my mother had to go to the store to get some groceries real quick like. She left me in the care of Mrs. Tripe who insisted that nap time came at 12:30. I hadn't taken a nap in almost three years. 

When she walked out after having tucked me in i tiptoed over to the window which thankfully was only about 2 ft above the ground a slipped out. From there i sneaked around the house to the big pine tree  in the back. I started to climb, when i noticed that i could nearly see the top of my house I obviously had to keep going. I finally reached the last branch that would hold me (I was risky but not stupid) I could see over my house and down the street. I could see all the cars coming in both directions. I even saw my moms purple mini van.

By the time she pulled up the drive I was crying and unable to get down. my mother was quickly over to my side of the yard and laughing a caring way as she talked me through the branches to place my feet on ans I clambered down. That was a scary event in my life although it has yet to stop me from climbing trees."

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"I was sitting at my desk with nothing to do. I was obviously not thinking before I did this. I grabbed the jar of rubber cement and opened thr jar of glue. I instantly started painting my arm with the glue. About two minutes later my arm was covered in dry glue. The glue was so stiff that I could not move my arm. I sat in my desk chair for about two minutes thinking about what I should do. I went to the bathroom and started scrubbing my arm with hot water. This did not work. I spent about fifteen minutes scrubbing at my arm. I looked down to see that the glue was gone but so was a layer of my skin. I've learned not to put rubber cement on my arm ever, but espeacially not when I'm bored."
 
Elyssa

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"The first time I thought she was dead. She wouldn’t wake up.
“Mommy, mommy! Wake up!” I would scream and try to shake her awake.
She wasn’t dead, well dead in a matter of speaking. Dead tired. I didn’t know that. The day before in school we had spent an hour on carbon-dioxide poisoning and, of course, my 6-year-old thought process had leapt to the obvious conclusion: Oh my god, mommy is dead. So I did what anyone else would do.
“Hello.”
“My mommy won’t wake up.”
“Alright sonny, calm down and tell me your name and address.”
I then dutifully recited from memory and sat down to wait for the police. They would fix her and then she’d wake up. Knock, knock. I opened the door and thump, thump went their feet down our hallway. Sure enough it only took them one minute and up came Mommy walking out of her bedroom. Man we’re they good. It only took them one minute to bring someone back from the dead.
The second time I was watching cartoons. Batman had just kicked bad guy butt and I was feeling hungry. Grumble-uhhhhhh. My stomach was making funny noises. I got some cereal and resumed my show. Mom came in.
“Okay, I’m going to blah so don’t wake me blah. Blah-blah, blah blah so blah and blah help blah me god blah,” buzzed some voice far-away.
“Huh?” I said tearing my gaze from Optimus Prime transforming into the coolest fire truck ever.
Saturday rolled on like usual, me watching my cartoons, playing with my toys. My stuffed dog had just eaten some robbers and my toy Hot Wheels car was in a high speed chase for the rest of them. Grumble-uhhhhh. Time for lunch.
“Mommy wake up...uh-oh. Not again.”
This time they were quicker than usual. It took them one minute again and sure enough Mommy woke up. I think though they didn’t fix her as good this time. She’s more angry than usual..."

Lyle

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Joe

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"Stick it in your nose," my brother said.
"NO!!!!," was the reply that came out of my 6-year-old mouth.
"Come on it won't hurt, it will be fun."
"NO!!!!"
"I dare you."

My underdeveloped brain couldn't refuse a dare, so I brought the white chunk of stryofoam slowly up to my nose. With much regret I slid it steadily into my nostril.

"See that wasn't so bad."
Except I couldn't get it out. I tried blowing it out , but that didn't work.
That night was a night that I try to live down. My parents had to bring me to the hospital so the doctor could pick it out."

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Sommer