Liar

There is one thing that I cannot stand. (well…there are many but this ranks in the top two) Being blamed for something I did not do. It stems from a childhood event. When I was six I was blamed for stealing Diamonds from this girl Kelly’s mom. I liked this girl. When do I get the opportunity to say that and mean it? I liked her as much as a six year old could. I went to her door and knocked. No one answered. I looked down and there was a cardboard box of pens on the door step. I was overcome with an impulse that I will regret to this day. I took out a pen and wrote on the box “ tO kELLy , I love yoU BRiAn” and left it on the doorstep.
Later that day her older brother came down to my house to bring me back to Kelly’s house to talk to the mom. I was scared. Her brother tried to drag me out of my house. I was screaming. He told my Mum that I had stolen family diamonds out of the cardboard pen box. I didn’t. I only tried to tell the only girl on the block I loved her. This escalated. Other kids teased me. School was where I got beat up. I didn’t want to go to school and I didn’t want to go out to play. I couldn’t for fear of getting chased or beaten up. I know I’m grown up now but this event colors the way I act when I am accused of something I didn’t do. I react in anger. Most people perceive this as guilt. My reaction doesn’t help the situation much.