Emily broke the disc for our favorite game, Pandemonium. It had been a complementary game that came with our brand-new computer. We fought over playing it and learned to take turns until it, well, broke.
Naturally, Emily did it.
Uh, no she didn’t. But Jordan, Trevor and Adam were convinced I did and still bring it up sometimes.
I am guilty of some crimes.
Yes, Adam, I did lose the DVD that belongs in the case for the movie Envy. I only pretended it hadn’t originally been there.
And if you three noticed coins missing here and there from your bedrooms, yes, that was me again. I stole from you to fund the late fees I often accrued at the library. (Sorry for reading, late fees?) I remember pulling $6 in change from my pocket once to pay a fee. The librarians found me amusing.
Sometimes, when you weren’t home, Adam, I’d sneak onto your XBOX and play Halo 2 on XBOX Live. I kicked ass with the sword, shotgun and plasma rifle.
After you went off to college, Jordan, I switched mattresses with you and hoped you wouldn’t notice. You never did.
That crack in the glass over your baby picture in the foyer, Trevor? I did that. Whoops. I’m sorry.
You guys may have read my diary once at camp, but I regularly rifled through your rooms, looking for any ammunition to fire at you the next time I was the center of ridicule. I used to read your yearbooks, trying to decipher what each person’s signature meant. I read over your shoulders while you instant messaged your friends.
“What does L-O-L mean, Trevor?”
“Laugh out loud, now go away.”
But I did not touch the Pandemonium disc. I swear.
I may be guilty of a lot of things, but I probably didn’t do whatever it is you want to accuse me of. I merely suffer from youngest-child syndrome.
That is, unless I did do it.
It certainly is plausible.