A rebellious act essay
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He's always mistreating me. Always looking down on me as if I was rescued from a dumpster, asking for something to eat like a beggar who lives under a bridge. I've never done anything wrong to trigger such a ghastly behavior, I've just assumed that "the foolish age" had struck him and produced a chemical reaction in his brain which caused these uncanny actions. Although we are the same flesh and blood, Mark decides to torment me with stormy comments about my height, intelligence and physical appearance. However, his eyes are my eyes, my height is three inches shorter than his and I have read more books than he's ever read for the past two years. But the little brother always has to shut his mouth and follow the big brother. Always.
But not this time. Thanks to my best friend Charlie, I've prepared the ultimate prank to keep my annoying sibling at ease and teach him a lesson that he'll never forget. Summer holidays meant chilling at the pool and having fun with friends, but not for Mark. He spent it learning everything he could to overcome my own knowledge. This was a hell of an opportunity. I entered the study, quiet as a mouse, and started to light some fireworks I had in my pocket. Let the fun begin. As the roar of the pyrotechnics startled my brother, he turned around way too quickly, lost his balance and landed on the ground on his buttocks. As he screamed my name, I started running; him following me; as soon as he reached the door, the invisible rope I had prepared made him fall again, this time face first. Next, he followed me downstairs without noticing the floor covered in soap and landing once again onto a little red cart, descending the stairs in a rather rough manner, jumping with every step it tumbled upon. Lastly, I tied him up, hands and feet backwards, put an apple on his mouth and took him outside on the front yard, with a sign that said "I'm the smart one."
Now, he could say whatever he wanted to. He may be smarter, taller, and maybe more handsome, but every time he said something like that, I would remind him of the biggest prank of his life (he did not even know that I had filmed it with my cellphone.) Big brothers are always right, always in charge, but we little brothers have something up our sleeves: we know their weakness; their own superiority is their downfall. Let the oppressor believe he has the upper hand and wait; the time will come when you can set yourself free once and for all. That's what I did. I released myself from the tyrannical ruler and took a stand for my own rights, to be just a brother and not let him suppress my condition as his equal. Rebellion, sometimes, is an act of good.
Explanation:
2
"A Rebellious Act"
He's always mistreating me. Always looking down on me as if I was rescued from a dumpster, asking for something to eat like a beggar who lives under a bridge. I've never done anything wrong to trigger such a ghastly behavior, I've just assumed that "the foolish age" had struck him and produced a chemical reaction in his brain which caused these uncanny actions. Although we are the same flesh and blood, Mark decides to torment me with stormy comments about my height, intelligence and physical appearance. However, his eyes are my eyes, my height is three inches shorter than his and I have read more books than he's ever read for the past two years. But the little brother always has to shut his mouth and follow the big brother. Always.
But not this time. Thanks to my best friend Charlie, I've prepared the ultimate prank to keep my annoying sibling at ease and teach him a lesson that he'll never forget. Summer holidays meant chilling at the pool and having fun with friends, but not for Mark. He spent it learning everything he could to overcome my own knowledge. This was a hell of an opportunity. I entered the study, quiet as a mouse, and started to light some fireworks I had in my pocket. Let the fun begin. As the roar of the pyrotechnics startled my brother, he turned around way too quickly, lost his balance and landed on the ground on his buttocks. As he screamed my name, I started running; him following me; as soon as he reached the door, the invisible rope I had prepared made him fall again, this time face first. Next, he followed me downstairs without noticing the floor covered in soap and landing once again onto a little red cart, descending the stairs in a rather rough manner, jumping with every step it tumbled upon. Lastly, I tied him up, hands and feet backwards, put an apple on his mouth and took him outside on the front yard, with a sign that said "I'm the smart one."
Now, he could say whatever he wanted to. He may be smarter, taller, and maybe more handsome, but every time he said something like that, I would remind him of the biggest prank of his life (he did not even know that I had filmed it with my cellphone.) Big brothers are always right, always in charge, but we little brothers have something up our sleeves: we know their weakness; their own superiority is their downfall. Let the oppressor believe he has the upper hand and wait; the time will come when you can set yourself free once and for all. That's what I did. I released myself from the tyrannical ruler and took a stand for my own rights, to be just a brother and not let him suppress my condition as his equal. Rebellion, sometimes, is an act of good