Little Broooo | Teen Ink

Little Broooo

May 3, 2024
By Miss_Liber BRONZE, (blank), California
Miss_Liber BRONZE, (blank), California
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
“They say it is the first step that costs the effort. I do not find it so. I am sure I could write unlimited ‘first chapters.’ I have indeed written many.”
-J.R.R. Tolkien


Ana sat on the step to her house, breathing in the fresh morning air.

What was it that made such a beautiful sunrise?

The silence was refreshing and satisfying at the same time.

“Boo!”

She started.

“Jason!” 

He smirked, “Gotcha this time.”

“Broooo.” She sighed, but internally she laughed to herself.

He touched her lightly on the shoulder.

She turned to him and was about to ask him something when he ran off.

She shrugged and went inside to clean her breakfast dishes.

Later, she sat down to read a book when she saw her brother still running around like crazy, occasionally dodging behind a rock to avoid detection.

She looked at him quizzically for a moment, then she opened the window and called, “What are you doing?”

He shrieked and ran away.

Ana’s big sister instincts were telling her there was something she was missing. Usually this was normal…kind of…but her brother was trying to tell her something.

She ran up to her mother’s room and knocked on the door politely.

“Yes Ana?” Her mom said, fastening a clip to her wet hair. She had her bathrobe and slippers on, which were so fluffy Ana wanted to hug her on the spot.

“Jason’s acting…weird.”

“Oh, don’t mind him. For a boy of his age it’s normal, as long as he isn’t getting into trouble. Is he bothering you?”

She shook her head, “It’s weird…he’s acting all spookish. He won’t go near me.”

“Did you make him mad?” She walked over the mirror where she smoothed her hair.

“No—I don’t think so.”

“Just keep an eye on him.” She smiled.

Ana smiled back. That’s what she would do. She wouldn’t have to worry; he was a big boy.

She had almost forgotten about him, reading her book on the comfy couch. Right when she was on a good part, she heard scuffling noises.

“Jason?” She asked, getting up.

His groan was muffled.

“Jason!” She slid the couch out of place with surprising speed, and gasped.

“What are you doing behind the couch?”

He shrieked and was about to run away again when she grabbed his arm. 

His eyes went wide, but she thought she saw a hint of relief in them.

She let go, “Is there something you want to talk about?”

He smirked a little, and, touching his sister’s shoulder, he said, “Tag.”



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