The disappointment to Mother
What
a disappointment I was to Mother.
It
all started with a pen. This pen was starting to be a popular trend in my
class. Everywhere I looked in my classroom, the pen was there. Whenever m
friends asked whether I had the pen, I would just turn away shamefaced, my face
flushed to a beetroot. To make matters worse, Mother was adamant in not
purchasing the pen. One day, I just could not take it anymore and decided to
execute my diabolical plan to get my object of desire after school.
Finally,
school was over.
Making
a dash for the bookstore beside my school, I went through my plan mentally.
Take close scrutiny of the security guard before taking the pen when he was not
watching. Sounded as easy as shooting fish into a barrel or so I thought …
Cool
air from the airconditioner caressed my cheeks as I entered the bookstore.
Scanning shelf after shelf with my chestnut brown eyes, I finally found the pen
I wanted. The desired object was displayed proudly in a glass container gleaming
as if it was beckoning me to take it. On seeing the security guard turn away
from my direction, I swooped into action. Swooping like a famished scavenger
towards the shelf with the glass container, I grabbed the pen and stuffed it
hastily into my schoolbag. Scanning the area like a robber looking out for men
in blue, I made my way towards the exit.
“Stop
right there, boy!”
Apprehension
ruptured my gut as I caught a glimpse of the bulldog like countenance of the
security guard. Furrowing his thick bushy eyebrows in displeasure, he gestured
for me to follow him. I refused. Much to my utter embarrassment, the security
guard harshly bellowed for me to follow him. Without any further resistance, I
followed the security guard like lamb to a slaughter. I could feel the
quizzical looks on my back and the giggles that loomed over me like storm
clouds as I walked towards my doom. My terrible doom.
No
sooner had we entered the store manager’s office that I was seated on a
brightly-coloured chair. Even from across the 1 metre wide desk, I could feel
the ire that radiated off the store manager. Listening to the series of events
that had unfolded from the security guard, the manager looked piercingly into my
soul, and questioned me, poker-faced, why I had resorted to theft in his store.
Reduced to a clip mouth stutter, I could only utter the words, “Please … please
do not call my parents.” His only response was picking up the phone and asking
for Mother’s phone number callously. Crestfallen, I told him. Glaring at me for
the upteemth time, the store manager rattled off the situation to Mother like a
M-16 rifle. An image of Mother’s disappointed face on the other line as she
listened shattered my heart. I turned away, tears beginning to snake down my
cheeks and sobs bemoaning my devastated face.
What
a disappointment I was to Mother.
I hope the postings of essays in my website have been useful reads for you.
Till the next writing,
Elijah Wee, Singapore
I hope the postings of essays in my website have been useful reads for you.
Till the next writing,
Elijah Wee, Singapore
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