Broken Eggs Incident

By CHY
It was a disaster. I was covered in revoltingly smelly mud water from head to toe. It was the most embarrassing day of my life. The series of unfortunate events all happened on one fine day…

“RING! RING!”

The bell rang away incessantly. I ran out of the gate, with quickened steps. It was after school. I shot into the bicycle station and grabbed my bicycle from the lots. It was really very old and I sometimes doubt if it was working nicely.

I stepped hard on my pedals to reach my home as fast as I possibly could. Soon, I was speeding on the heels of the wind. A supermarket slowly loomed into view. A man was buying newspapers and many others were shopping for grocery. A woman was picking eggs from the counter outside the supermarket. Two students were walking into the supermarket, chatting excitedly to each other. It was a crowded sight.

Suddenly, I spotted a puddle of muddy water in front of the counter. I pulled back on the brakes to stop the bicycle from speeding ahead. But to my horror, the brakes jammed.

I tried another time.

Again, it would not budge.

I tried the third time.

The brakes were still jammed. My palms turned sweaty.

I tried one last time.

Grr! It just would not work. Terror gripped my eyes as my courage melted away.

It was too late. My bicycle skidded on the puddle and crashed into the counter. My bike slammed head-on into the counter and I fell into the puddle of mud.

“SPLASH!”

I was thoroughly soaked in mud water. That was not all. The crash had shaken the counter so violently that the top row of eggs went tumbling down onto the ground and broke into million of pieces. The woman standing next to the eggs was so badly shaken that she fell backwards onto a man who was carrying a box of glass bottles. The man fell… and as though in slow motion, I saw the bottles went crashing down.

There was no escape for me at all. I had to pay for all the damage I had caused. The shopkeeper ranted and raved at me, as I suffered the furtive glances from the crowd. If looks could kill, I would have withered there and then. I paid for the damage with all of the money I had with me and pushed my bike home with tears streaming down my hot and puffy cheeks. I was feeling terribly upset.

I had another ordeal to face when I got home. My father saw my dirty clothing, and at once, began reprimanding me. I was about to argue when my mother silenced me with a quick gesture.

Looking back, I asked myself why I had not checked the condition of my bicycle before I rode it, knowing full well its condition due to its age. How could I forgive myself for making my parents so angry at the thoughtless and reckless act I had committed? I had paid dearly for my carelessness.