"Lava"

When I was six, my sisters and I used to play a game called 'Lava' when we had nothing to do. We jumped on the tables and couches on our living room without touching the floor or carpet. One of us, the 'Lava Monster', had to make the rest of us touch the floor to take their place. 

My sisters and I gathered in a circle and yelled, 'Not it!' to evade the role of the next monster. The last one to say it stayed on the carpet as the rest jumped on the furniture. I'd said it last and needed to catch my sisters. 

The first circle my sisters made, I hadn't caught anyone as they laughed. They moved at the same time junking around and away when I moved closer. My youngest sister was in the middle of jumping between the couch to the table, where mom kept a vase given to her. I caught my sister's leg sending her stumbling forward and unto the table. 

The glass vase fell down, shattering into a million pieces on the floor. We picked up the little pieces, trying to hide the evidence of the broken vase in the trash can when fixing it didn't work. We grabbed another vase and placed it where the other had been to fill the now empty space. 

My sister, who had fallen, now had a cut running the length of her palm; the outcome of when she fell. We told our mom she fell outside as we played tag when she saw it and cleaned it, giving her a band aid for her hand. Mom took one step into the living room and the first thing she noticed, was her missing glass vase. 

It didn't take long for her to put the missing glass vase and cut together. She found the shattered glass in the trash can and sat us on the couch, grabbing her belt. One by one, she told us to never play inside the house ever again and we never did.