Narrative Review
Written By: Zehra Nasirali
Date: 14th January, 1997
It’s Friday night you
are out on a date. Your parents have
given you a curfew of 10:30pm. You
arrive home with your date at 11:30pm.
Your parents are waiting up for you…
The house seemed haunted as the
atmosphere was still and it was pin drop silence. A chill went down my spine as I started to shiver with fear. Apart from the kitchen light, I saw a small
reflecting penumbra on the wall with was coming from my parents’ room. I was upset to find out that they were
awake, as I knew they would want to talk to me about my date and at that
moment, I was agitated, tired and frustrated to even utter a word. I tiptoed up the stairs trying not to sound
a creak.
I reached the washroom, which was
adjacent to my bedroom, and I heard footsteps; I felt the presence of someone
behind me. I was dreading to face my
parents at that time, as I was a mess after a tiring event at the middle of now
where with a broken down car.
“Wh… Where on earth have you been
young lady?” scared to death my mom
said with her eyes wide opened and her hands on her hips.
“Why, how, do you know what time it
is?” my angry mother asked as she looked at me with disgust from head to
toe. Her mouth dropped open the same time
as my dad walked in. I was hoping that
they would not think what any other parent would have thought if they would
look at their daughter with a half ripped skirt, messy hair all in tangles and
mascara smudged below her eyes after coming home from a date way passed
curfew. It was obvious that I was
wrong. As naïve as I was, I told them
that I was sorry for being late and I had a good explanation. My dad furiously said that I’d better have a
good explanation or I would be grounded for the next three months.
After washing up, I changed into my
favorite pajama suit and had a long conversation with my parents. I tried to explain to them that we were
stranded in the middle of nowhere, three miles from a gas station, with no
means of communication in a broken down car.
They looked double minded but told me to further explain the reason for
my unpleasing appearance. I told them
that when none of the few cars stopped to assist us, we had no choice but to
push the car. It took us two hours to
reach the station and because I spread my legs apart too far while pushing the
car, my tight skirt accidentally ripped.
It was very hot and I longed for a
cold bottle of mineral water. I told
them that my date was being a real gentleman and being really apologetic about
his broken down Mazda MX6 ruining our date.
My parents were still not pleased than I hoped they would be. My dad’s brow climbed high up and remained
like that for long. I continued my
story.
“So when we finally reached the gas
station, my date bought me a bottle of water as he said that it was the least
he could have done. So I drank a few
gulps and chugged the rest of the bottle over my head because I was
perspiring. As a result my hair messed
up even more and my makeup got all smudged.
It was messy but was also relieving.
I tried to dry myself…” I paused for a gasp of air and continued,
“…
During his car got fixed. It was
already 11pm and we hadn’t even begun our date. He drove to ‘Baskin & Robins’ and bought me some Jamocha
Almond Fudge. I ate that in the car as
he drove me back home and so that’s the whole story,” I childishly and abruptly
concluded hoping for a believing response.
My parents did not look very happy.
My heart thudded as I waited for the verdict. I felt like I was on trial in my parents’ bedroom instead of the
court.
Finally, they decided to ground me
for less than two months, as they did not know whether to believe me or
not. They were also not pleased about
me still partying with ice cream during my curfew time. I was happy that I had told them the truth
even though they did not believe me.
Moreover, forty days was much more accepting than three months. I was thankful. They then sent me to my room and for that I did not despise them
at all as I knew what kind of positions they were in and the decision they had
to make was not easy. At that moment I
felt glad I was still a kid and not a parent.
Teachers
Comment: Wow! What a story! 93%