Complications

Ch 7 Undeniable guilt

Guilt was a very powerful force.

It could eat you alive. It left you restless and your stomach has this constant feeling of pain as if someone punched you repeatedly. I knew this now because I was suffering from guilt.

After the fire had been all settled down, most people could return to their classes because like the fireman said, only the Home Ec classroom got burned. It would be unwise to send all the students home since it was nearly the end of the day, but the parents would receive a call about this anyways.

Before Joni and I departed to our separate classes, she pulled me aside. She told me that I shouldn't tell them it was me; they would probably figure out a way to get the money for reconstruction anyways. Besides, she told me if I did let Mrs. Mayer and the principal know, then others would find out and the torture I had avoided this year would return with the force of a thousand hurricanes. She made me promise not to tell and after some convincing on her part, I agreed. I didn't know if I made the right decision or not, but I knew the guilt was eating me alive.

After Joni had that conversation with me, Ms. Mayer took my Home Ec class to the gym. For the remaining class time, everyone just sat and gossiped about who it could have been. Let's just say I kept my head down, and my face stayed red the entire time. Mrs. Mayer looked so worried which did nothing but increase my guilt. I just hoped Joni was right, and they would find money to fix the classroom up.

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I was lying in my bed unable to get an ounce of sleep. When I got home from school earlier, I had hit the bed first thing. I didn't even come down for dinner either. The guilt had sunk into the deep depths of my stomach causing me to not be hungry for the first time in forever.

I wish I could sleep and forget about the guilt just for a while but unfortunately, I couldn't sleep. I tried closing my eyes and even humming a soft tune to myself. I drowned myself in the darkness of my room by closing all the curtains and the door, and it still wasn't working. It was like my mind was running a marathon while my body was drowning, gasping for air. It didn’t make a good duo.

I was sure that the last time I felt this guilty was when I was eight years old. I accidentally broke the television in the entertainment room. I had been running around the house not really paying attention to where I was headed. The next thing I knew, I bumped into the television and it fell to the floor. When Dad came home that night, he thought eleven year old Trent was to blame. I couldn't blame Dad for thinking that it was him; Trent had always been a trouble maker.

He punished Trent and not me. I couldn't sleep for days and finally, I confessed. Dad revoked Trent's punishment and gave me one. No television for a week. Feel free to laugh at the irony. Dad was never good with coming up with punishments, and he still isn't.

I knew that if I had told the principal that it was my fault then my dad would be able to pay it off easily. Like I mentioned earlier, we're rolling in money.

I spent the next ten minutes internally debating with myself, weighing the pros and cons of telling on myself and then the pros and cons of not telling on myself. The only thing I got out of that debate was the thought that I should join the debate team. I couldn’t convince myself to do anything no matter what I told myself.

"Honey, can I come in?" Mom asked, opening the door just a crack. I nodded then realized she couldn't see me nod in this darkness.

"Yes." She swung the door till it hit the wall behind it. The sound echoed around my silent room. The hole that now assembled in the middle of the wall shattered some light across the room, giving everything a dark, gloomy shadow. She walked over to my bed and sat on it. I sat up straight avoiding her tough.