This is a short that I wrote for my Creative Nonfiction writing course and never used. The topic was childhood game, and it describes a board game that I used to play with my older cousins.
“I’m gonna be the prettiest, pretty princess of them all!” Adam declared, cramming a blue plastic ring onto his pinky finger.
“Nuh uh!” I protested, clipping a purple earring onto my left ear.
We must have looked ridiculous: a teenage boy and a five-year-old girl, arguing over who would be the ultimate pretty princess. Despite our bickering, my cousin Adam remained my favorite playmate at family functions. We spent countless afternoons playing movie freeze tag, Monopoly, and Chinese Checkers. During these games, he would run slowly and overlook obvious moves to give me a fighting chance. But when it came to Pretty, Pretty Princess, Adam showed no mercy.
The objective was simple: claim two dangly earrings, one thin bracelet, one long necklace, one ring, and ultimately, the crown. Once you adorned yourself with all of these fine jewels, you won. However, without the crown, a beautiful silver circle encrusted with tiny jewels of pink, blue, and yellow, you couldn’t be the prettiest pretty princess.
I remember how eagerly I flicked the spinner, hoping it landed on a piece of jewelry that I had yet to claim. I remember how my hands trembled as I placed each ornament around my wrist or neck or finger. But most importantly, I remember how the blood rushed to my head, how my foot stung as it stamped against the floor, when Adam beat me to the crown. Every single time.