Sometimes I remember really weird things that happened to me as a kid. This is one of those things.
My sister and I lay awake that night, a shared problem of ours being insomnia, even then, early in our lives. I was six and she was ten. Naturally, I idolized my big sister. She got the top bunk on our bunkbed, much like our eldest brother got the top bunk in his room with our other brother. The rule that most often applied in our household was: majority rules. But what that really meant was, oldest rules. So, as the youngest child, I did not get my way very often. The only times I held anything over them were the two years I occupied with preschool and kindergarten. I got home before they started lunch. So my mom picked me up and I proceeded to watch Sailor Moon until my older siblings got home. Usually, by the time they got home, I was on my second run of the movie, just at the beginning. Meaning they couldn't watch their after school specials. I did this on purpose. I was a very passive-aggressive child. I'm still working on that. Back to the bunkbeds.
My sister and I were having trouble sleeping, even after listening to Delilah on our radio. She had a soothing voice, and it was back in the nineties where they had less advertising on the radio. There was only Delilah and the soft rock love songs people called in to dedicate. Beth and I loved that station. We once requested that Backstreet Boys song, Show Me the Meaning of Being Lonely. But the timer on our alarm clock had gone off, and we were laying in silence, waiting for the sleep fairy to visit. I checked to see if she was still awake.
"Beth?" I asked quietly.
"Yeah?" she whispered back. When we spoke at night, we made sure to be quiet. Our parents were usually just down the hall in the living room, and they always seemed to hear us.
"I forget," was all I could say. And it was the truth. I had been so sure I was going to ask her something. But by the time I went to say something again, I had forgotten.
"Okay," Beth responded. But just then, something went wrong with the physics, and maybe she shifted too much or too fast, or maybe it was just bound to happen either way, but the slats on my sister's bunk bed fell out, and, mattress and all, she crashed down onto my six year old bed, and onto me.
Beth started panicking, thinking she had just killed me with the force of the fall. I mumbled in between the mattresses that it didn't actually hurt - and I wasn't really lying. For some reason, the way it fell on me, it just didn't hurt. My sister didn't weight much, and I can't imagine a twin mattress being very heavy either. I pondered how to remove the mattress from on top of me, while my sister ran to get to my parents, panicking even more. She was thinking what I was - that dad would be upset we disturbed them, that he would get mad, blame us for ruining the bed.
But when my parents arrived, a short minute later, they did me the grand favor of taking the mattress off of me, saving me the trouble, and putting it back into its original place. Beth climbed back onto the top bunk, nervous now. I reassured both her and my parents that it really hadn't hurt me, and that I was fine, and I could go to sleep now. We said good night all over again, and I went back to staring up at those slats.
"Maybe you knew the bed was going to fall on you," My sister suggested after our parents left, "maybe that's what you were going to say."
"No," I said, as I finally remembered, "I was going to ask if you wanted to trade Pokemon cards."