15 years ago or so, I used to take great pleasure in tormenting my sister. At the time, I thought it was funny, and to a certain extent, so did my parents, but I think I may have gone a little overboard some if not all of the time.
On one occasion I pulled a door knocking prank. She was about three years old, and had just learned from my parents that when the knock on the door, she could get up and open her door and find someone on the other side. And she was very quick to answer the door.
So I though it might be funny to trick her. I snuck into the bathroom next to her room and knocked on the wall. She naturally opened the door, and found no one there. Confused, she closed it again, only to hear more knocking. With lightning speed, she opened it again.
“Hello? Who’s there…? Nobody…? Okay…” and she began to cry.
There’s another time where I hid under her bed, trying to keep my snickering to myself as quiet as possible for a good half an hour before the payoff. My mother finally put my sister to bed, turned out the light, and walked down the hall to her room. Then there was a moment of quiet. That’s when I finally made my move.
In a low, raspy, monstrous tone, I called her name from under the bed. You can’t imagine the scream that followed. I could barely contain my laughter as she ran down the hall. By the time I was halfway to our parents’ room, she could already hear me laughing, and she yelled my name back at me.
Our mother came out to see the commotion, and she couldn’t contain her laughter either. This made my sister understandably frustrated.
Now my sister is 18, and still sleeps with the light on.