Is it a Personal Recount?

Hehehe! I am trying to write a personal Recount! Is this considered as a personal recount or a narrative? Please correct my grammar error , i tend to make a lot of mistake but i am trying my best to reduce it ! How can i improve on this essay ( like more of what and less of what) ? Thank you so very much ! Thank you thank you !
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The moment I truely felt proud of myself
Nat was running around pretending to be chased by a ghost. “Tammy, remember to look after your brother. I’m going to pay a visit to your aunt.” I rolled my eyes. Not again! The last time Mum left me with Nat, he rolled down from the second storey – with his skating shoes on – and that was how he had gotten two stitches on his forehead. “Tammy! What do you call two pigs?” Nat popped his head out from the door. Even an imbecilic baboon would know but I tried to humour him. “What do you call them?” Nat’s eyes flew open; he turned to me in horror. “You don’t know? They’re called stupid!” I groaned. “Get it?” followed by manic giggling. “Two pigs are stupid!” More lunatic laughter. “You’re stupid!” snigger, snigger. Oh god! What have I done? “Grow up.” I warned. But Nat couldn’t stop laughing. Finally, he stopped when I flashed him my trusty old buddy – the deadly stare.
“Now now, Nat, be a good little boy and get out of this room! Right away! And don’t try anything stupid like last time!” I warned and kicked his butt out of the room. Now, that crazy ninny was screaming and bolting around pretending to be chased by the ‘invisible’ me. When can this nine-year-old boy grow up? I sighed.

I was solving my chemistry when I heard a loud thunder. I shot up from my seat and ran to see what happened. Nat was at the bottom of the stairs crying loudly. “Nat! What happened?” I flew down the stairs to him. There was a wide gash on his knee, about the length of a pencil. “Oh my gosh! Nat! Stop crying, you’re making me panic!’ Crimson red came spurting out of his knee. The floor was stained dark red, blood kept erupting like a volcano. “Stay here!” I dashed up the stairs to get my first aid kit. Luckily I prepared this ever since Nat fell down the stairs – like now. Taking the big white box, I flew down the stairs again.Fumbling to open the box, I chose the cloth. The white cloth instantly stained red. My heart was beating as though it was vibrating. I tired to stay calm. Pressing hard on his wound, the bleeding started to slow down. Nat face was white. He cried so hard that he could not breathe. “Relax Nat! It’s just a small cut.” I tried to clam him down. But he cried harder. I took the cloth away gently. The cloth was dripping with blood. Then, I took the yellow bottle containing yellow fluid. Popping out the cap, I took another cloth and pour the fluid onto the cloth. Lightly, I placed the cloth on his knee.

Nat eyes followed my hand and he looked intently at how I treated his knee. When I finally bandaged his knee, the end product was quite satisfying. Except that his knee was bandaged into a fat white bundle, everything was fine. My hard work from watching “treating the injured” had paid off! I brought Nat to the Sofa and poured him a cup of warm milk. His face looked as though he had been chased by a ghost. His crying stopped but he was still having hiccups.

Mum arrived home that afternoon. Her eyes flew open when she saw Nat’s knee swollen with white bandaged. “Tammy, I am so proud of you!” Mum said with tears in her eyes – either she was overly worried for Nat or extremely proud of me. In my heart, I chose to believe the latter. Suddenly, Nat talked, “Mummy! Tammy is so brave!” He opened his arm and signaled to me. I went and hugged him tightly. “Glad you are still alive.” I laughed. That moment, tears filled my eyes. I was so proud of myself.

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Thank you!