B-U-S-T-E-D.
Totalleh BUSTED.
You hear me right.
Mom found out about the broken vase which I, being a smart arse
chose not to tell her because i was pretty convinced that she wont
noticed the MAJOR difference as i managed to glue all the thousand pieces back together
(While having younger sister to run up and down again to the shops to buy those annoying super sticky
glue as they kept running out. One is NEVER enough, trust me.)
like how i ace in Jigsaw puzzle and clearly, those pathetic cracks.. and i say, those lining
of cracks that looked like disgusting veins, were all over the place.
On the vase that is.
Oh why yes, Never a good thing.
Well, happily ever after wasnt for long till younger sis texted me telling me that
my mom wanted to shift THE vase somewhere else, and she did leaving the other half still stationed on the floor, while the other half of it is in the palms of her hands.
You wouldnt want to be there,
i was at the library with a friend at the moment and
its NEVER a cloud nine feeling knowing that there's gonna be a surprise
waiting for you at home, especially when you know whats coming and
that "whats coming" is not a good
YOUVE-BEEN-A-GOOD-GIRL
surprise.
EVERY STEP HOME FELT LIKE DEATH.
No joke.
TERRIFYING INDEED.
I AM SO DEAD!
Prepare me my funeral.