Almost everyone with siblings can relate to running around the house, playing different games to pass time. Well, this story started out just fine; it was an average game of hide-and-seek. My brother, 6, and I, 8, decided that while my mom was busy, we would play hide-and-seek upstairs. My brother, Caden, began counting to 100, and I panicked as I looked for a hiding spot. I checked each room, tiptoeing so he wouldn’t hear me. I checked the last room in the hall, which happened to be Caden’s room.

I quietly made my way in and shut the door behind me. I looked all over, searching for a good place to hide. His room was small, but cluttered just enough to hide me. I debated hiding in his piles of clothes, but I saw his closet and immediately changed my mind. I opened the closet door, and I was met with darkness. My hand wandered, searching for the light switch. My mother had warned us about the unsteady floor in his closet, but in that moment I was only worried about winning.

Just as my fingertips brushed against the switch, I was frightened by a loud creaking sound. Before I could get out, I felt the floor beneath my feet fall through. I let out a blood curdling scream as my body came into harsh contact with the stairs, which happened to be directly under the closet. I looked around and saw all of the pieces of the floor scattered everywhere. My mom flew into the room to see what had happened, carrying my baby sister. She asked what happened, and I remember responding with, “I feel like I was in a time machine.”

To this very day, my family and I still joke about it. It’s one of our favorite moments to relish at Thanksgiving, and I hope many more years of laughing at my foolishness are to come.