You are not logged in. Login or Signup
Home » Question of the Week » Injured Siblings » Page 15 | Search
This is a question Injured Siblings

My sister and I were always fighting. She's still got a large chunk of pencil lead embedded in her hand from where I stabbed her once. What's the worst you've done to your siblings?

(, Thu 18 Aug 2005, 12:46)
Pages: Latest, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, ... 1

This question is now closed.

ok, not so much an injured sibling story, as a vicious pair of siblings I know...
Two brothers (one skinny and blonde, one skinny and brown-haired)that lived down the road from me back in the day were legendary for the level of antagonism they showed towards each other on a daily basis. Cricket bats, golf clubs, bottles, they'd wield anything at each other over a minor argument. Took a good swing at each other, too.

One day, after a particularly virulent disgreement about toast, that I was unfortunate enough to be around to witness, the conflict spilled out of the house, fists flying. Without warning, the skinny, brown-haired one made a break back for the house, slamming the front door closed and leaning against it, so that keys of any kind were useless. The skinny, blonde brother began to hammer on the door, with both fists and feet, to no avail.

Then, he had the bright idea of using his head. He took a run up. I should mention that the defining feature of the front door is a massive frosted pane of glass...about head-height.

Can you guess what happened next? Picking bits of glass out of the back of the brown-haired brother for weeks, they were. The blonde one came out of it unscathed, and still uses it as a stick to beat the other one with to this day.

I have a sister, who is pretty docile. I am glad of this...
(, Thu 25 Aug 2005, 11:57, Reply)
She wasnt injured, but she hates me telling this story
My little sister Laura, has an irrational fear of David Bowie. This started when she first saw one of the last scenes in Labyrinth, where he has very big hair and is wearing very tight tights.

Being the loving sister that i am, i started playing her bowie songs so she became petrified of his voice aswell.

Then i told her David Bowie lived under her bed. before she went to sleep at night, dad had to look under her bed to make sure that David Bowie wasnt there.

That was fun enough, but i had to take it that little bit furthur.

I heard the song 'Under Pressure' which is Bowie, but also Freddie Mercury...now laura didnt know who Freddie was, so i showed her lots of pictures of him looking relativly scary...and being about 6 or 7, she was scared. I then made sure she knew the song Under Pressure, and also realised that it was Bowie and Freddie. She became rather scared of the song and would cry every time it was on.

I then told her that Freddie Mercury lived in her wardrobe.

So now we have a young girl who is scared that David Bowie is under her bed and Freddie Mercury is in the wardrobe. Thats scary, thats mean enough...but it wasnt for me.

One night, after reinforcing her belifs about the monsters in the closet, I got up at about 3am. I sat in the hallway outside her room, and plugged in a tape player which had been set so that when i pressed play, it played about 10 seconds of silence, then Under Pressure started. I then opened her door just a crack, enough to be able to slide the tape player in, but no lights on in her room or the hallway.

I then pressed play.

She had nightmares for years.

She hates me telling people this story, but she's 19 and is still scared of David Bowie to the extent that she will cry if she sees him on tele.

Mint.
(, Thu 25 Aug 2005, 9:48, Reply)
My Brother
had his school photo coming up the next day. He had long, wispy sideburns which in 1993 were almost as bad as owning a pair of hi-tec trainers (the ones with the fluorescent green trim in particular - which I secretly owned but refused to wear).

He was 3 years younger than me and he still is, this made convincing him I was right quite easy.

He must've been about 13 i guess, I told him that he could not go to school with those sideburns or the images will be there to haunt him for years to come. He agreed and let me shave his sidneys clean off. Of course, I was no hairdresser so i *accidentally* shaved a little bit too high up his head to give him those 'officer dewie' simpleton sideburns. I nearly pissed myself laughing but he wasn't to pleased and cried to dad.

I got an almighty smack and grounding off my old man but it was worth it to see him have his head shaved completely bald by dad, just in time for school photo!
(, Thu 25 Aug 2005, 9:48, Reply)
I didn't do it!
Maybe slightly off topic, but do you all remember that horrible moment, when the red mist of absolutely wanting to KILL your brother/sister would clear, as they starting bawling like a burgular alarm, and you realise exactly HOW much trouble you're going to be in when your dad comes upstairs?

Pure, childhood panic....



"Shut up, I didn't hit you that hard anyway." *wallop*
(, Thu 25 Aug 2005, 9:30, Reply)
The good old days
like all siblings, me and by brother would tear chunks of of each other - to this day he has a scar on his nose where I walloped him with a tenis racket.

But my crowning hour, I feel, was when I was about 13, and he was 12. Mum and Dad had gone out, I was left in charge -was told my brother couldn't go out, as he had homework, or something.
My brother went out, sat on top of the phonebox in our miserable little hamlet, and refused to come inside - I told him if he didn't I'd snap all his playstation games. He didn't believe me.
FOOL
Five minutes later - a distressed pre-teen boy fighting between pride and horror as his precious games are stapped, one by one, in front of him (they're quite hard to break you know) in the end - he came inside.

Best bit? I got praised for *taking authority* and he got told off for going out :D

The greatest childhood memories though, were when me and my brother would gang up on our much younger, childhood-obesity specimin of a sister. Most inspired nickname? Pigalotta; she cried and cried and cried. Now looks like any normal 14 yr old, but is forever paranoid that she's fat - I like to think me and my brother played a big part in this pyschological scarring.....
(, Thu 25 Aug 2005, 9:23, Reply)
My sister and I...
were playing 'World War One' one day. Our beds, parrallel to each other with a 6 foot gap between them, formed the trenches. We were fairly good kids, throwing things like teddy bears, pillows, that kind of thing, at each other, when my pillock of a sister (5 years my senior) decided to up the ante by throwing one of those square batteries. I must credit her timing, as i popped up just in time for it to hit me squarely on the fod. I had a positive and negative terminal imprinted in my head for 3 days.

Got her back by hitting her in the face with a remote control hurled from 10 feet away though, some years later. Ah, the memories.
(, Thu 25 Aug 2005, 9:01, Reply)
Injured siblings
My brother could really wind me up. So I chucked a cricket bat at his head. He ducked. He didn't manage to duck the umbrella I twatted him with a couple of days later, mind you.

We don't talk much now.
(, Thu 25 Aug 2005, 7:10, Reply)
Not exactly injured, but...
There's a 15 year age gap between me and my brother. I'm 23 and he's 38, see?

Anyway he was a total bastard to me, and all my friends were terrified of him. So in revenge I spat in his tea every day from the ages of 9 to 16.

7 years of daily tea-spit. That's like...a whole swimming pool of spit.

Serves him right. He's a cunt.
(, Thu 25 Aug 2005, 2:04, Reply)
NB This is not gay if you are an innocent child
My brother and I used to play this game where, if one of us tried to sit down next to the other, the one already sitting would put his hand on the seat in a claw fashion. When unexpected, this would provide quite a surprise to whoever was attempting to sit down. The main thing to remember, however, was to remove your clawlike hand before it became sat upon. My brother forgot. He broke his hand. I laughed for quite some time.

Also I once booted a football into his cobblers and twisted one of his sperm ducts and he had to have hospital treatment. That was quite amusing too.
(, Thu 25 Aug 2005, 0:28, Reply)
I killed Dominic, my imaginary brother.
He nicked my pen once too often.
(, Wed 24 Aug 2005, 23:31, Reply)
I get along allright with my bro now,
but when we where kids we used to fight all the time. I have a scar on my nose form where as toddlers, yes todlers he was trying to gouge my eyes out whilst I was trying to smother him to death. Fighting was so common in our house that when my dad walked in on my brother trying to stab me with a knitting needle for pushing him off the sofa all we got was a 4 day tv ban.

I can rember several incdents out of this period of violence,

- me slamming my brother repeatedly face first into a brass doorknob

-my brother breaking a small table when he threw it at me

-dangling my bro off the top bunkbed by his pants (nuclear wedgie)

-my brother closing a 6' ladder whilst I was on the top step.

-putting a half inch gash in my brothers forehead with a carefully made leggo dagger for grassing me up for starting our latest fight.

Edit- rebered one time on holiday, at a putting green my brother accidently wacked me with a putter taking a wild swing. My mum had to wrestle me to the ground to stop me from braining him with my own putter. But we had chips later so it turned out ok as day trips go.
(, Wed 24 Aug 2005, 22:50, Reply)
more damage upstairs...
Another time, Lauren crept up behind me while I was on the computer, and barfed om my lap. I managed to crawl into my bed, but only said "eww" for the next hour or so. I've yet to think of something equally disturbing for her..
(, Wed 24 Aug 2005, 22:39, Reply)
Come out with your hands up!
I was 14, armed with a .177 air rifle, in a rear upstairs bedroom.
My brother was 12 with a crappy bb pistol hidden behind the garden shed.
His idea was to climb onto the shed pop his head above the roof to ascertain the lie of the land!
Mine to shoot the first fleshy target!
End Game involved him crashing to the ground holding face....not a bad shot from 80 feet!
(, Wed 24 Aug 2005, 21:46, Reply)
Well, close enough
Being an only child, I don't have any siblings.

Quelle surprise.

However, I did once drop a cousin on his head when he was a toddler. He was on my shoulders, I let him get off and er, whoops.

It certainly explains things with him.
(, Wed 24 Aug 2005, 21:18, Reply)
Psychological Damage
1. I put a speaker in my sister's bedroom and played BBC Death & Horror Sound Effects Vol 2 - Sweeney Todd at night

2. I locked her in her wardrobe & she still can't go in lifts
(, Wed 24 Aug 2005, 21:00, Reply)
Hungry Hippo's
This game always ended in tears. Usuallly mine.

Im well competitive and my *darling* big brother would always beat me so id usully pick up the game and smash it over his head/throuw it at him. Think we must have had to buy it bout 4 or 5 times due to my competivness. In the end my mum ended up giving it to the charity shop, Were also not allowed to play pictionary or monpoly anymore. Mouse trap also coused friction. Other than that we used to just break each others things. He took all my barbies hostage and buried them in the garden. He says they had all killed each other and it was there funerel. SO i took his oldest rarest stamp ( he was a right geek) and stuck it on his oldest rarest "oor wullie" book. He cried real tears at that. And i broke his keyboard and if he pisses me of to this day i just stratch his DVDS
(, Wed 24 Aug 2005, 20:33, Reply)

This question is now closed.

Pages: Latest, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, ... 1