—Pass me the ball, to give it to the children,— I said to Mario.
—Let's play for a while,— he answered me while kicking the ball.
—Okay,— I answered.
The children kept knocking on the door, while we were playing with their ball; suddenly Mario kicked the ball hard, it went straight to grandma's clay jar, which fell from its base to the floor, shattering into pieces.
— What did you do?— I shouted at him.
Mario's face paled, he opened his mouth, his eyelids almost reached his head, his eyes were wide open, his eyes showed how scared he was, he had to be, that jar had a very special value for grandma, because it had been in the family for many decades.
— What shall we do? — Mario asked me, while he stared at me.
— It was you who knocked it down, so you must take the consequences,— I told him.
—You can't leave me alone with the problem, we were both playing with the ball,— I argued.
At that moment, we heard the door open. My grandmother came straight to the yard, as the children were waiting for her at the door, to ask her for the ball.
—Inés, Inés,—she called insistently.
—I am in the yard, grandmother,— I answered.
Mario didn't even move, he was too scared, he knew he was going to be reprimanded for what he had done.
—What happened here?— asked grandmother, when she saw his jar smashed on the ground.
When I was about to tell her what had happened, Mario came ahead of me and said:
—We were in the living room, grandmother, when we heard a loud noise, when we got here, we found the jar broken on the floor and this ball to one side—.
Grandma was red with anger, she bent down, took the ball and went straight to the street.
— Whose ball is it?— she asked, from the door of the house.
—It's mine, ma'am,— said a boy, named Daniel, as he approached to pick up the ball.
—Well, I won't give it to him until your mother comes to get it,— said my grandmother, turned around, went into the house and closed the door.
I didn't feel good about this situation. I told my cousin about it, but he convinced me to keep quiet.
It wasn't until late in the evening that Daniel's mother went with him to pick up the ball.
Knock, knock, there was a knock at the door.
My mother opened the door, there was Daniel and his mother.
—Good evening, I'm here, Daniel told me that his ball fell in his yard and that I should come and pick it up,— said Daniel's mother.
—Good evening, come in,— answered my mother.
—That's right,— said Grandma.
—Has something happened? —asked the lady.
My grandmother invited her to go to the patio and there I explained to her what supposedly happened and the sentimental value of the jar, immediately Daniel's mother apologized and reprimanded the boy in front of us and made him apologize as well; she also promised my grandmother to replace the jar.
I felt guilty, but Mario did not feel a bit of guilt. Daniel was punished by not using the ball for a long time, he was not allowed to watch TV, and when I found this out, I felt even more guilty that I had not told the truth.
I tried to convince Mario to tell the truth, but he did not want to do it, my uncle came the next day to pick him up and left very calm, without any remorse; I did not know what to do, I did not want to harm my cousin, but it did not seem fair to me that Daniel would pay for something he had not done.
The feeling of guilt did not let me be calm, so I decided to tell my grandmother what happened that day.
—Grandma, it wasn't Daniel who broke the jar, it was Mario, who unintentionally hit it with the ball,"— I told my grandmother.
—How so, Inés, explain that to me,—said grandma.
Then it was my turn to explain to her what really happened.
As expected, I got a good scolding, as Mario was not there, I had to go to apologize alone with my grandmother, Daniel's punishment was withdrawn, my grandmother contacted my uncle, told him everything, we were both punished by not watching television and Mario was not allowed to go to his grandmother's house for a long time; I was punished but I no longer felt guilty.
This is my Participation in Creative Nonfiction in The Ink Well Prompt #35 , I hope you like my publication.
The image used were made in Canva
Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)
From the title, I thought it was a fictional story, but after seeing the labels, I can see that it is not.
It's good that you finally told your grandmother the truth. Carrying that feeling of guilt is not healthy, much less for a long time. Very good story.
Hi, I appreciate you taking the time to read my story, there is yes, it is very bad to feel guilty about something.
When we are children, it is normal to get into mischief, and it is also normal to blame others for our actions. What is commendable in this case is that you have assumed your guilt and consequently, your punishment. Thank you for sharing your story with us. Regards
Hello, when we are children, it is very easy to blame others for something we do wrong, but later on we become aware that it is not the right thing to do, I appreciate your visit.
Thank you so much for this story, @inessita! Fortunately you had the courage to tell the truth. An innocent child was punished for something he didn't commit and your sense of solidarity was stronger than the fear of punishment. A very interesting story that is surely part of your family history. Thank you for your commitment to the community and your comments on the other stories.
It seems unbelievable that there are so many stories to tell of our family routine, how good this space that you offer to share them.
It's always better to be reprimanded for your actions instead of letting others take the fall for you. You did great by telling the truth.
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Hi, it was the best I did, thanks for commenting.