Hey guys, this is a fictional story that I wrote a few months back as a school assignment. Hope you like it. :)
After a long busy weekend, Friday was finally here. In the evening, I sat on the living room sofa to watch television.
Jameela, our maid came by, walking like a model wearing the type of clothes that were always an eyesore to me; bright yellow shirt with shiny red lining on the sleeves and parrot green pyjamas which had orange polka dots on them. It seemed as if she came from a party.
"Jameela, can you make me a chicken sandwich?" I requested.
"You never let me sit, Asad!" she frowned.
I decided not to bash her because I knew that she was going to make it anyways.
Suddenly, the T.V went off itself. It seem weird to me because there was no one else in the living room. So i went to check.
To my dismay, there was a small mouse nibbling the cable. I got agitated and scared so I jumped back on the sofa. At first, I thought of approaching Jameela for help but I refrained because she always looked for opportunities to make fun of me.
"I wish I had a cat, she would have killed this creature in no time." I mused.
It was a situation in which I was standing between the devil and the deep sea. If I told Jameela she would make fun of me or at least mock me, and if i did not. the mouse would roam in the house freely.
I had soon realised that taking an action was necessary. So, without keeping in consideration what I would get to listen in return, I took Jameela's help.
"Jameela! There is a mouse in our house. Would you please do something about it?" I shouted.
"I am scared of mice." I confessed.
"Oh God! I cannot believe that you are scared of mice. Men in Karachi are so feminine. Come to Gujranwala, I will show you how real men are; strong, tall, muscular and fearless." Claimed Jameela, feeling smug.
She went towards the T.V to examine but saw nothing. Spotting the mouse in the house was like finding a key in a haystack; almost impossible.
It shocked me that Jameela was so intelligent. I always assumed that she was empty headed. From the store room she brought a mouse trap, hung a piece of apple and left it in the living room.
In hope, that the mouse trap would be useful, I stepped down the sofa and walked towards my bedroom as fast, alert and careful as I could.
"Finally!" I said with relief, as I reached my room.
With a big smile on her face, Jameela told "you will get to know the results in the morning. Don't count your chickens before they hatch, my dear. The trap can turn out to be unsuccessful as well."
After a long busy weekend, Friday was finally here. In the evening, I sat on the living room sofa to watch television.
Jameela, our maid came by, walking like a model wearing the type of clothes that were always an eyesore to me; bright yellow shirt with shiny red lining on the sleeves and parrot green pyjamas which had orange polka dots on them. It seemed as if she came from a party.
"Jameela, can you make me a chicken sandwich?" I requested.
"You never let me sit, Asad!" she frowned.
I decided not to bash her because I knew that she was going to make it anyways.
Suddenly, the T.V went off itself. It seem weird to me because there was no one else in the living room. So i went to check.
To my dismay, there was a small mouse nibbling the cable. I got agitated and scared so I jumped back on the sofa. At first, I thought of approaching Jameela for help but I refrained because she always looked for opportunities to make fun of me.
"I wish I had a cat, she would have killed this creature in no time." I mused.
It was a situation in which I was standing between the devil and the deep sea. If I told Jameela she would make fun of me or at least mock me, and if i did not. the mouse would roam in the house freely.
I had soon realised that taking an action was necessary. So, without keeping in consideration what I would get to listen in return, I took Jameela's help.
"Jameela! There is a mouse in our house. Would you please do something about it?" I shouted.
"I am scared of mice." I confessed.
"Oh God! I cannot believe that you are scared of mice. Men in Karachi are so feminine. Come to Gujranwala, I will show you how real men are; strong, tall, muscular and fearless." Claimed Jameela, feeling smug.
She went towards the T.V to examine but saw nothing. Spotting the mouse in the house was like finding a key in a haystack; almost impossible.
It shocked me that Jameela was so intelligent. I always assumed that she was empty headed. From the store room she brought a mouse trap, hung a piece of apple and left it in the living room.
In hope, that the mouse trap would be useful, I stepped down the sofa and walked towards my bedroom as fast, alert and careful as I could.
"Finally!" I said with relief, as I reached my room.
With a big smile on her face, Jameela told "you will get to know the results in the morning. Don't count your chickens before they hatch, my dear. The trap can turn out to be unsuccessful as well."
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