It was when I was five years old, living in my family’s tiny, half-dilapidated apartment. One day, I had come home after playing with my friends, and my mother told me that she was going out to do grocery. “I’ll come back soon, but watch over your little brother while I’m away.” “Of course, I will!” I answered proudly. I always liked being a responsible big sister.
Once my mother was gone, I felt a surge of excitement run through my body. Without the presence of adults, my adventure spirit was called upon. “Let’s do something special,” I thought.
As I looked around, I saw my own reflection on the glass door leading to the balcony. Since it was completely dark outside already, the glass was reflecting the entire room like a mirror. I winced and made a pose toward the glass. Then I went to the next room (the two tiny rooms were attached together without a door), and from there, I skipped toward the glass door, jumping high in front of the glass and making a special pose.
Soon, my little brother joined me. He also skipped from the next room toward the glass door, and jumped with a wince. One after another, we skipped to the glass door, and every time, we made a new pose into the mirror. We even said some fancy words as we jumped and made a pose in front of the glass. Each time, we were eager to do better than the last time. A higher jump, a bigger smile, a fancier pose and a cooler message at the end!
As we skipped and jumped, the tiny room turned into our universe, and we were the coolest kids in the entire world.
There was a sound of lock turning, and my mother came back with bags of grocery. My brother and I immediately stopped skipping and jumping, and as if nothing had happened, we went to welcome our mother. Only the sweat on our bodies and the heating excitement on our faces could have shown her the amazing place we had been to while she was away.