Awkward me!

It was not some time before I heard the feared sound.

"Who broke my mug? I will kill you!" my sister cried in torment.

You may be asking why somebody would mind such a lot of a mug, yet my sister was joined to it not given its utilization, but because of the recollections connected to it. A couple of months back, my sister and her dearest companions had gone on a getaway to Europe's most well-known vacationer locations. She frequently announced proudly and in the bliss that it was the best fortnight she had at any point in what seemed like forever.

Alongside many photos, presents and so forth, she had likewise gotten a mug from the travel industry organization through which they had coordinated their outing. On it was engraved a couple of the best photographs she had taken with her companions. To her, it was a mug, however an important keepsake.

Sadly for me, it was I who had broken it. As I was removing my mug from the cabinet for my daily aid of milk and cornflakes, my hand hit her cherished mug and I watched with sickening dread and misery as it crashed onto the marble floor into 1,000 pieces. Not so much as a jigsaw puzzle-making devotee would have had the option to assemble it.

At first, I remained there deadened with dread at the results, however at that point moved rapidly into it, taking off from the crime location. Nonetheless, my break from damnation wouldn't be that simple.

After an hour, when my sister had awakened and had sluggishly hauled herself to the kitchen, I knew precisely when she got to look into her mug. I was cheerfully perusing when a shout so frightening was heard that I was left with goose pimples.

Then she came into my room, walked straight up to my bed, and requested with outrage and tears in her voice, "Did you break my mug?"

As far as I might be concerned, she seemed like a wild tiger who was ready to go after a vulnerable, sad casualty.

Seeing her in such fury and with my feeling of remorse, my answer was as a weak falter, "Ummm… m-maybe?"

Her response would have had a tyrannosaurus rex arguing for benevolence, it was simply wild. I, then again, was just human and recollected her response to my ungainliness until the end of my life.

Her eyes overflowed with outrage, and being the busybody she was, she admired the roof and cried like a banshee, "Noooooo!"

I believed that I had been let off delicately, however that was not all. She scowled at me with contempt and the following words she expressed sliced through me as effectively as a blade through the spread, "You will pay for this, Syed Sameer-ul-Hasan."

Leaving those foreboding words lingering palpably, my sister stepped off, banging the entryway shut behind her. The reverberations could be heard all through the house, yet I didn't focus on it; I was left pondering with shaking hands what tight spot I had brought myself into and how I would receive in return.