Something is fishy

The summer after my second year of college i was living at my parent's and so was my brother, Tim. Even though he had graduated, he was having a tough time with his plans for world domination through real estate sales and had returned home to save money. My parents were gone most of that summer, so it was just the two of us. I don't remember what we would fight about, but it was always something. I couldn't have my boyfriend over, but he could have his girlfriend(s) spend the night. I couldn't play music or have friends over. His friends could show up at the house even if he wasn't there. He used to even hit me, and he was fuckin' 22 years old. Nothing i could do about it as he had me by 50 pounds and 8 inches. I have never felt that much rage towards anyone. I fucking HATED him.

I ached for REVENGE. I needed revenge. I spent inordinate amouts of time thinking up creative and bloody scenarios. I didn't really want to do something that would cause an injury. (Well, maybe a small injury, but nothing permanent.) So i finally settled on this:

I went to the grocery store and bought a whole trout. Yeah, a dead fish. A friend and i drove over to my parent's house in the middle of the night. (I was back at the dorms by then.) I knew he never locked his car, so i took the fish, lifted up the back seat, and stuffed it underneath. Then we high-tailed it out of there.

About a week later, i was at my parent's house visiting, and i see Tim heading out to the car with buckets and towels.

"Someone put a dead fish in Tim's car," my mother tells me. She had a look on her face like she knew who had done it, but i was not confessing to anything. Tim would have hurt me. He eventually had to sell the car, in the winter while it was cold. HA HA HA.

That was so childish, but hey, i WAS only 20. My oldest brother loves this story. I still don't know if Tim knows. I wonder if he would still hurt me.