It was a bout 5am; I had just wakened from an argument between Mom and Dad. I slide from beneath my purple poke-a-dot comforter and on to the floor. I crept down the short flight of stairs that were in the west wing of our average sized house. As I made my way down, I heard a horrendous crash, and sudden sobbing. “JOHN!” screamed Mom. I crept closer and closer to the landing. 3 more steps, I thought to myself, 3 more steps! The leg of my pajamas pants caught on a lose nail on the staircase. I tripped and tumbled down to the hard, oak wood floor. It had the smell of freshly cut oak and dog slobber. The argument that had erupted before me had now subsided. I could he footsteps increase towards me.
“Christina what we-” Mom started but was interrupted. “What were you doing?” Dad sounded concerned as if he knew I had heard everything from before.
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