Sprinting On A Knife-Edge

(I am walking home with my sister and one of our cousins. It’s just beginning to get dark and we are a bit wary as we pass by a rough looking guy.)

Cousin: *whispering* “Oh s***, that guy just showed me a knife and grinned at me!”

(We all start walking faster, and we notice that he’s crossed the street but is keeping pace just a short distance from us. The corner of our street has a high fence that would block us from his view.)

Sister: “As soon as we turn into our street, we are all going to run for it, okay? Don’t look back; just run.”

(I have always been known for not being a very fast runner. People use the expression, “She couldn’t run if her life depended on it,” about me. My sister and cousin have both won running races at school; I always come in last. We get to our street and we all take off running. I get to the front door, unlock it, and we all end up piling into the house.)

Cousin: “What the h*** was that, [My Name]?”

Me: “What the h*** was what?”

Cousin: “[Sister] told me you couldn’t run!”

Me: “I can’t!”

Cousin: “[Sister] and I couldn’t catch you; I’ve never seen someone run so fast in my life!”

Sister: “Yeah, why don’t you ever run that fast at school?”

Me: “They don’t usually chase me down the track at school with a knife.”