But why did my mother faint?

Mangoes, golden and full, their scent~ a whispered promise of mischief. My mother’s eyes, wide as warning bells. "Where did you get these?" Her voice, a blade slicing the air. Silence, a held breath. Five minutes, five hours, an eternity suspended. "Were you alone?" The question, a thread pulled loose, unraveling the fabric of innocence. "No, Mum." The words, a hesitant confession. My classmates, a chorus of laughter, the sky, a vast, yawning expanse. "And the boys?" Her voice, a slow-burning fire. "Laughing, Mum." The sound, a distant echo, a memory already fading. "Do you know why they laughed?" The question, a stone cast into still water, rippling the surface of understanding. Underpants. The word, a whispered secret, a shame that clings like a shadow. Two weeks later— more mangoes, more sweetness, cupped in my hands. My mother’s stare, a mixture of expectation and dread. "Who climbed this time?" The question, a challenge, a test of courage. "I did." The words, a bold declaration. Her fury, a gathering storm. "But I was smarter this time," I said. The words, a hesitant boast. "I took off my underpants before climbing." The silence, a held breath. And then, she fainted. Contest: Open Poetry 11 Contest Judged: 3/9/2025 8:44:00 AM Sponsored by: Charlotte Puddifoot Placement: 3rd