Writer's Workbook #21

#21 It wasn't her fault.

“It’s not fair!” she yelled, slamming her door shut. “Everyone blames me for everything!” She flopped down onto her bed and screamed into her pillow to try and release some energy. She rolled over to her back and glared at the ceiling, hot angry tears spilling over her cheeks. She didn’t mean to break the vase. She was just trying to show her brother how to throw a ball, and the vase was in the way. She had tried to aim away from it, but the ball had hit and smashed her mother’s expensive clay vase.

It’s not my fault, she tried to convinced herself. If the stupid vase hadn’t been in the way, I wouldn’t have hit it. If Jeffery didn’t need to know how to throw a ball then I wouldn’t have hit it. If mom didn’t collect so many expensive vases then the vase wouldn’t even have been there for me to hit. She cried some more out of self pity, realizing how she was in the wrong. If I had thrown the ball outside like I was supposed to then I wouldn’t have hit the vase.

She wanted to leave her room and tell her mom she was sorry, and that she wouldn’t throw any balls in the house any more, but was afraid she’d get in trouble for coming out before she was supposed to. She felt a little helpless, and was ready to cry some more when the door opened. “Sweetie?” her mother asked. “Can I come in?” She nodded and sat up. Her mom walked in and sat next to her on the bed. “Sweetie, I-”

“I’m sorry Mom!” she cried, cutting her mom off. “I shouldn’t have thrown the ball inside the house! I didn’t mean to hit the vase, I’m sorry.” She was crying even more now, but her mother smiled down at her.
“It’s okay sweetie, I forgive you. Thank you for being such a big girl and apologizing to me.” Her mom hugged her tight and kissed her forehead.