Swing house

Sis and me were up early to build our swing house. We had noticed the house behind our garden had been occupied by bagavards. Most were bright hair Mohicans, with tattoos and tatty, dark clothing.
“Have you seen their clothes? There is no way they can afford that house when their clothes are ripped!” It was only later we would realise what fashion truly was.
Me and sis had discussed how these bagavards were plotting a revolution. We had heard the word last night on TV and when we asked dad about it, he told us how some people fight the law because they are not happy with the current situation, usually a lot of people get hurt.
“I bet those bagavards are plotting a revolution, they can’t be happy with their current situation, having no house or new clothes”, my sister was always the clever one, she knew every conspiracy out there. “They’ll be out again tonight dancing around a fire and drinking straight out of bottles. We should keep an eye on them in case they start the revolution tonight”.
We started building our swing house out of pieces of scrap we found lying about our garden. Father had cemented the swing legs in the ground to make it secure. It was the greatest thing in our garden. Using the frame as the base, we meticulously lay a ladder vertically across the side bars. Then placing wooden boards on top we created a sturdy flooring. We hung two bed sheets over the frame creating a tent lifted about three metres above the ground. Next came the furniture; cushions and a box for food, magazines and board games. Once completed we took our positions.
As the sun started to set we quietened down and hid amongst the sheets waiting to the bonfire to start. When the hoard come out, so did the screeching music. It was just loud noise with hardly any words that made sense. There was a lot happening, smoking, shouting, laughing, they threw tissue rolls into trees, then wrapped the paper around the branches and trunk.
The more they drank the more violent they got, we daren’t move in case we were found out. We watched quietly as the fire rose higher and the noise got louder. Sis said she heard a gun shot, I agreed, even though I couldn’t hear anything past the music.
“Hey, you two!” someone shouted. We had been found out. I could see the sheer panic on my sister’s face and I was near to tears.
“You had better come down now!” the voice seemed angry. Sister had started to cry and told me to go first. I was too scared to move.
Then somebody started pulling at the sheets. We both started screaming as the sheets came down.
“What are you screaming for!! Come in and have your supper. Now!” Through the tears we noticed mother walking away. She didn’t seem bothered by the bagavards or the revolution. “And bring those bed sheets back with you!”.

Wiping our faces we did as we were told. Exiting our swing house we both agreed next Friday we would leave the revolution alone.