When I was about 9, I broke a very memerable vase that my mom had, as a little kid, I was frightened and scared to death my mom was gonna kill me. So I took it and through it in the woods, I thought, maybe she wouldn't notice. But then she came and asked me if I did something to it. I answered, no, did you put it away?
A couple days later, she still hadn't found it, I was being eaten alive by the guilt, I felt terrible, I had lyed to her and I knew she knew I did it. I had to tell her
I had finally got the courage and I went up and said, "Mom, I broke your vase... I'm so sorry I didn't tell you the truth, I just didn't want you to get mad at me." She was so surprised that I said something, She wasn't even mad.
After all that, we hugged and everything was normal.
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