Annual Pumpkin Contest-Personal Narrative

It was October 23rd. Our entry for the second annual pumpkin contest was due within the week. My brother, TJ, wanted to build a large trebuchet that could shoot a flaming pumpkin this year. I laughed and told him I 'd sleep on it. The next morning, I felt myself shaking. My brother put his hand against my shoulder and said “wake up, it 's time for class.” “Five more minutes, please” I begged. Our trebuchet stood 12 feet tall. It had a long throwing arm with a basket attached. I stuffed a pumpkin with jars and cans that were filled with various liquids that I found around the house. Roofing tar, soap , gas, oil. Anything that was dangerously flammable. It was an hour past sunset. My parents were in position to film our entry. TJ cut the rope holding the counterweight with a flaming sword. The flame

There was no pumpkin soaring through the air. I stopped looking up, and looked forward. It had landed on my brother 's head. The chemicals and gas dripped down the side of his face, singeing his hair, giving him a half shaven look. He dropped the sword and ran. My mother started screaming. “THOMAS!! THOMAS NO!” It was a name I rarely heard. It was almost inaudible. A sound like nails on a chalk board. It was as if someone had driven stakes through my feet down into the ground, I couldn 't move. I watched him burn. There was a garden hose at my feet. I could have grabbed it, I could have stopped this, but I was still immobile. My dad hurried over and finally extinguished the fire with a blanket. I was able to move again. That 's when it hit me. The foul fragrance of burnt flesh and hair. Half of his face was black, part of his ear was missing. His arm was toasted. I started shaking. “Wake up, it 's time for class” I heard. I turned my head to the side and glanced at the hand against me. It was discolored and bubbling. The gauze that wrapped his face could have been his Halloween costume, a mummy. I was afraid to look, afraid to talk. There was a monster in my bedroom. I