The Day I Accidentally Became a Criminal

By 8:15 a.m., I had already ruined my reputation, my breakfast, and possibly my entire future.All because of a sandwich.Let me explain.
Yesterday, I had confidently announced to my family that I was finally becoming a responsible adult. I had made a timetable, cleaned my room, and even watched a motivational video without falling asleep.
Naturally, the universe decided to punish me.The trouble started when I arrived at college and discovered a mysterious lunchbox inside my bag. It contained two sandwiches, a banana, and a small note saying, “Don’t touch this. I’m watching you.”I immediately suspected my best friend, Rohan, who considered stealing food a personality trait.“Is this yours?” I asked him.

He examined the lunchbox suspiciously.“Obviously not. I would never eat brown bread.”That was a lie. Rohan once ate bread that had fallen behind a refrigerator.
Before I could investigate further, our professor entered the classroom and announced that someone had stolen his expensive sandwich from the staffroom.Everyone gasped.Someone actually whispered, “Call the police.”
I laughed.Unfortunately, I was holding the evidence.The professor slowly turned toward me.“What’s that in your hand?”I looked down at the lunchbox.Then at him.Then at the sandwich.
“Sir, before you misunderstand, I would like to clarify that I am a victim of circumstances.”He called the principal.Rohan immediately moved three seats away from me.Traitor.
Within ten minutes, I was sitting in the principal’s office while three teachers stared at me like I had stolen the college building.“Why did you take the sandwich?” the principal asked.“Sir, I didn’t know it belonged to your staffroom.”
“Then why did you eat half of it?”I looked at the remaining sandwich.“That,” I said solemnly, “was a serious administrative error.”Nobody laughed.Not even a little.
Then the office door opened, and the principal’s assistant rushed inside.“Sir! We found the missing sandwich!”Everyone froze.Apparently, the professor had accidentally left his lunchbox in the staffroom refrigerator, while my mother had packed an identical lunchbox for me.Two innocent lunchboxes. One terrible misunderstanding.I was free.I stood up, adjusted my shirt, and prepared t
leave with whatever dignity remained.Then the principal stopped me.“One more thing. Who ate the banana?”Silence.I swallowed.“Sir, that was unrelated to the investigation.”
He closed his eyes.I ran.By lunchtime, the entire college knew the story. Someone had even created a group chat called Justice for the Sandwich.Rohan was the administrator.I decided friendship was overrated.
That evening, I returned home and told my mother everything, expecting sympathy.She listened carefully.Then she frowned.“Wait. I packed two sandwiches and a banana?”
“Yes.”She stared at me.“Beta, I packed three sandwiches.”My blood turned cold.“Where’s the third one?”Before I could answer, my younger brother appeared in the doorway, holding a sandwich wrapper.
“Why is everyone talking about sandwiches?”I slowly turned toward him.He smiled nervously.And that’s when I realized tomorrow’s investigation was going to be much, much worse.