The day was average, nothing drastic occurred within the walls of our grade school and homework was minimal. And so, my brothers and I set out to accomplish our daily after school routine of abusing America Online and chatting on the phone with random acquaintances. The room reeked of normalcy. The typical quick-witted wise cracks about each other's egotism were common. We whipped out mom's secret stash of sugared cereal and thoroughly stuffed ourselves until we gained a tremendous sugar high. Irreplaceable innocence.
             After getting lost in the oblivion of sugar and videogames, the familiar disruption of the garage opening ruins our day of simplicity. Not losing a second, we tear across the room to turn off the computer, making sure the monitor is off, and she wouldn't suspect that it was ever on. Then launch the Nintendo under the couch, out of sight. All of the mind killing "corruption" is hidden from the narrow minded matriarch just before she heaves open the heavy wooden door and compliments it with an enraged slam. The consistency curls up within itself until it fully disappears, for she has disrupted our purity with her scowl. Our smiling faces deformed into a bewildered gaze as she began creating new four-lettered words we had never heard before. We sit, frozen and outside of ourselves, stunned by the sudden change of atmosphere. Before we have a chance to respond, or even plead our defense (of what, we didn't even know), she storms off in a rage, only to return this time with a sledgehammer in hand.
             Glaring at us with the highest level of disgust possible, she kicks the Nintendo with such passionate insanity, that it takes flight and nearly hits the T.V screen. With the center of our happiness broken, our spirits begin to sink, however, we all know she's not done. We cringe as she hastily rips the phone from its socket as though she was a starving caveman on a hunt. The three of us rem
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