I'm not proud of this, and it needs some prior knowledge so listen up.
Part 1 - When I was in the 1st grade I was a fucking arTIST, I could draw anything you asked. People, buildings, animules, all that shit. So one day I drew a mothefucking polar bear. Now this was not just an ordinary polar bear, it had an arctic landscape as the background, snow, some lighting in the sky, needless to say, I learned how to jerk off the same day I drew it. Now here's when we get into it.
Part 2 - I brought it home today to give to my mom, she said she thought it was pretty cool and I was like fuck yeah. However, that night, I was in her room, and I saw it crumpled up laying in the garbage can next to her bureau(which had a jewelry box on it) #foreshadowing. Upon seeing this, I flew into a a rage of some magnitude the gods themselves couldn't contain me. In this rage, I made the heartless mistake of taking a gold watch off her bureau and tossing it into the trash.
Part 3 - Later in ze evening, I was laying in my bunkbed, resting my little eyes. My sweet mother dearest walked in, and came to my bedside. She said to me, and I'll never forget these words, "Have you seen my gold watch?"
I casually muttered, "No I can't say I have, where was it last?"
She says, "It was on top of my jewelry box, but now I can't find it."
Me: "Maybe it fell into the trashcan when you were cleaning, it could've easily slipped off the edge, I hope you find it."
At this point I wasn't necessarily feeling regret, but I did have a slight twitch in my conscious. Over the years this guilt slowly ate away at me, a constant remembrance of the action I had taken due to such a meaningless act of throwing out a simple drawing.
Part 4 - Fast forward five years. I'm now in the 6th grade, a small young child with all the potential in the world. Everyday adding a new slampiece to my slampiece list. The world was mine for the taking. However, I remembered everyday the lie I had told, and decided it was time to let the truth out and reveal myself. I picked Easter to tell Mother, it wasn't easy, nor fun, but it had to be done. I pulled her outside that day, and she immediately knew something was wrong. I just came right out and said it, all the pressure finally lifted from my small, white, hairless chest. After explaining my actions, I felt incredibly stupid, but that's not the worst part. She told me that watch had been a gift from her mother (now deceased, at the time paralyzed and in an assisted living home), and was one of the only things she still had to remember her by. This crushed me and left me with a rotten feeling, something I never want to have to experience again. Tell the truth kids.
That's my story, you can contact me via my inbox with any inquiries regarding rights to the story and or publishing it.
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