Yugi broke his grandma's urn. What happened in the end?
I own nothing. Except his dead grandma.
I sat in my living room and hung my head holding the remainder of my grandmother's urn. I hadn't broken it on purpose or even directly, but it was still kind of my fault. It started out that Grandpa was out of town for the whole week and weekend for work. Well this weekend just happened to be the weekend of my grandpa's birthday. I was left home alone all weekend and I wanted everything to be perfect for him for when he got back. I was cleaning the house as a birthday present and Mr. fuzzy was asleep on the cushion of my chair. Mr. Fuzzy was the family cat he was a beautiful stuck up brat of a Persian, with a gorgeous gray color. He was old though and not exactly in the best of health. Well I brought out the vacuum and plugged it in. Before I turned it on, I turned on the stereo and put in my favorite CD. I didn't turn it up or anything so when I turned on the vacuum, Mr. Fuzzy heard it and jumped ten feet into the air. He didn't look to happy with me as I moved the vacuum back and forth. I saw how he looked and thought I would be a little mean to him because I owed him for scratching my face when I tried to give him a bath. I walked closer to him with the vacuum and giggled a bit as he started hissing a spitting at the vacuum. I laughed a bit more and then continued with the cleaning. Well every time I went near Mr. Fuzzy he was air scratch it and hiss at it. I finished cleaning the floor and wanted to clean the curtains from all the dust. I pulled at the hose and started clean the curtains. I smiled at the quaint curtains my grandma made. She insisted on making her own, before ever buying any. My grandmother taught herself how to sow, and knit, and anything else you can do with a needle. She was very talented and loved her work, even though it started as nothing much but a hobby. I finished with the curtains and started on the furniture. Just as I turned to clean my grandmother's favorite chair, I swung my elbow out too far and heard the crash of porcelain. I will never forget that sound as long as I live, for it signified one of the worst moments of my life. Closing my eyes tightly, I felt my stomach wrench in guilt just before I opened them. First, I saw the spilled ashes, and saw how they were embedded into the carpet, and then saw my grandfather's face when I'd have to tell her what I'd done. I slowly kneeled down to inspect the damage and picked up a few pieces of the urn, placing them gently in my hand. As I rose to throw them away in the trash can, I tried as best as possible not to grind the ashes down deeper into the carpet fibers with the heels of my shoes. Throwing the pieces away, I returned to the broken urn and tried to sweep all of the ashes together with my hands. It was an eerie thing to have to sweep up the remains of my dead grandmother. I can still remember the texture of the ashes between my fingers and the thoughts that filled my head. Her voice resonated in my head and I could see her soft white curls that fell onto the pillow of her deathbed. Her eyes remained a bright, vivid blue full of life and I couldn't understand why. Only later did I realize that her eyes were a reflection of her soul, ready to break free from the encasings of a wretched body. When I had swept all that I could of the ashes into my hand, I stood and walked to the kitchen, being careful not let any trickle onto the floor. With one hand, I searched the cupboards, looking for anything that I could put the ashes into. Finally, I found an empty Tupperware container and let the fine powder slip into it. I replaced the lid and placed the container on the countertop before looking at my hands. Tiny particles of ash were stuck in the creases of my skin. I slowly walked to the sink, staring at my hands the entire way. With a swallow I turned on the tap and solemnly washed my hands, horrified by the thought that I was putting some of the ashes of my grandmother down the drain. I felt as if I was throwing her away like I didn't care. Glancing back into the living room, I swallowed again, knowing that what I did not get of the ash would have to be vacuumed. How in the world would I ever explain this to my grandpa? With resolute force of will, I cleaned up the ashes of my grandmother embedded in the carpet. Mr. Fuzzy did not find the vacuum amusing and left the room while I was going about my job. Of course, he did not leave before gracing me with one of his angry hisses and a glare. When I had finished vacuuming, I picked up the pieces that I could salvage of the urn and took them to the kitchen. I picked up the Tupperware box of ashes and gulped at the realization of what I had done. I walked slowly back to the living room, holding the box and the shards in my hands, and sat down on the sofa. I felt terrible. Not only had I disappointed my grandpa with this, I was certain that my grandma was not pleased by what she saw as she watched me from heaven. I stood a while, staring at the ash and the shards of porcelain. I was trying to come up with a way to explain this to my grandpa when I heard the front door open. In that moment, my heart rate doubled and fear choked me. It was over for me now. It was my friends coming over. I looked up at the door with terror clearly etched upon my face as they stepped inside. I looked up and sighed as my friend's head appeared in the doorway. My friends sat down next to me and patted my shoulder. I sat there and rambled on about what happened as they sat there and tried to comfort me. I unfortunately had to be the one to explain it to my grandpa. Well in the end I got grounded for a month and I had to buy grandma a new urn, other then that nothing to serious really.
Poor Yugi. I had fun with this. Hope you enjoyed.
R&R
