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A SCARY MEMORY

BY CAOIMHE MCGONIGLE

The pink curtains were open. I was in my tiny cot and I was meant to be asleep… I was two years of age and my bedroom was up on the second floor.

Of course, I didn’t sleep. I shook the bars of the cot but they wouldn’t budge. I was scared that my parents might hear me but I didn’t give up. I tried to climb over but fell back down onto my blanket and pillow.

Well, I tried again and this time I got over! I hit my head on the wardrobe but I didn’t care about that. I climbed up onto the windowsill and opened the window. Outside, it was windy, but I stayed strong, holding on to the handle of the window. To the left, I could see the view of the village, Annagh.
I looked down and saw how far I was from the ground, but didn’t care! I climbed out onto the outside windowsill and felt free. I could see all of our neighbours’ houses and felt like I was hanging off a plane! My Dad was on the lawnmower, whistling happily, when he caught sight of me. His jaw dropped and he signalled frantically for me to get back inside!

Of course I thought he was waving at me, so I waved back at him, beaming. My Dad turned off the lawnmower as quickly as he could and sprinted inside, up the stairs and into my room. I was about to fall when Dad caught me. He grabbed my left leg and hauled me inside. He was red and puffing, so he looked like a tomato! Dad locked the window firmly and hugged and kissed me gently. I felt safe—but out there was so much fun!

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