A tragic story

            It was less than a second, maybe half a second, but it changed everything. It all began when one morning when it was my mother’s birthday and I decided to bake her cake. I waited until she left the house and that’s when I started gathering bowls, spoons, and a measuring cup. I proceeded by getting the flour, eggs, milk, sugar, and chocolate. My little brother, on the other hand, was playing around too much. I sent him to his room to play and at the time I did not think he could cause any more trouble. About fifteen minutes later I put the cake into the oven and decided to make the chocolate icing for the cake. My little brother yelled out from his room that he was hungry again and again and again! Finally I brought him a banana and a juice to content him. I finished the chocolate icing and put it into the refrigerator to cool off for a bit. Then I decided to check up on my little brother and I played with him for some time until I told him I had to check on the chocolate icing. When I left I did not notice that my little brother followed me to the kitchen. As I was checking the beautiful chocolate I made, my little brother opened the stove and took the cake out. Then, thanks to his butter fingers, he dropped the cake on the floor and there was a crash. I ran to the seen only to find my beautiful cake destroyed on the floor. I wanted to scream with anger. It felt as if a thousand needles just hit me. But instead I calmed down and took the full responsibility of the situation. I ended up buying a cake for my mother’s birthday. It was good, not as good as mine perhaps, but it’s not like I could have altered history. After that day, I never let my brother get near my baking again.                    By Mauricio Galvan