When I was 15, my parents weren’t home on a Saturday night and I was walking around the house on the cordless phone (Gen X represents!!!) when there was a knock at the door. I answered and a man was standing there all fired up talking about “I know they are here! I know this is the house! I finally caught them!!!!”.... so I put on my poker face because I knew he was talking about my little brothers, who were probably out back in the yard up to no good.
He was a twitchy little weirdo of a man who clearly had no sense of humor and I eventually grew tired of him.... so I said “I’m sorry sir, but I’m the only person here” and when he refused to accept this and would not leave I explained to him that I would call the police and tell them that I’m 15 years old, my parents aren’t home so I’m alone and that there is a man on my porch refusing to leave. His face went as white as a sheet when he realized how I was going to spin this in my favor to the cops and he left immediately.
After he left, I went out back and found my brothers hiding in a bush. I yanked them out 1 by 1 and beat their asses despite being 5’ tall at the time and they were all over 6’ tall. Those little fuckers were using our step father’s blow torch equipment and the metal BBQ tongs to dip tennis balls into a bucket of gasoline, light them on fire and then hit them into the oncoming traffic on the other side of our back wall with our tennis rackets. I made them pay to have mine restrung after this, those little shits.
The rules of the playground remain that I am the big sister and can fuck with you... but no one else ever will. Not on my watch.