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The Truth And Nothing But The Truth

Yes I committed the crime, but I also did the time

By Colleen Millsteed Published 2 years ago 3 min read
Image courtesy of Pixabay

Dear step-mother,

Oh boy, just that title alone would have seen the back of my thighs black and blue for days.

Hence why it has taken me this long to admit, I have a confession to make, although I never had any intention of confessing my crime. Not sure why, because I’ve been punished for it a thousand times over, albeit without any proof it was even me.

You punished me on a daily basis, but it could have been any one of the other children. It was even possible that it was one of your two precious children and not me at all. Not that you’d ever consider that possibility.

Well let me confess that it was never me alone! Your oldest child was often my partner in crime.

Wondering what it is that I’m confessing to?

Remember those days when I was in primary school? I’m going back to the days when I was between nine and twelve years of age.

Every morning you’d make my lunch. The same thing, day in and day out.

A sandwich with margarine and cream cheese spread, wrapped in plastic gladwrap. By the time lunchtime had come around, it had sweat inside the plastic and most days it was not eatable. More often than not it ended up in the rubbish bin.

But then by the end of the school day, I would be starving and I don’t mean that to sound over dramatic but in my small world, it was extremely dramatic to me. So much so, that I remember the terrible stomach cramps I would endure. So bad at times that I couldn’t stand up straight.

No small child should experience that kind of hunger pain.

So yes, I’ll own my crime. Not only did I steal, as you constantly accused me of, but I also begged and scrounged to find enough to eat, to take away my pain.

With that in mind, I guess I deserved the punishment I received after all. I did the crime but you do not know the half of it.

Remember the orange juice factory that was across the road from us?

Well, when they threw out all the outdated orange juice, I would dig through their bin and retrieve as much as I could carry. I would then hide the bottles in the spare block next door. I would often sneak away when I was hungry and guzzle a bottle or two.

It kept the hunger pangs away for awhile.

On the weekends, I would also knock on the back door of the bakery — the one close to where we lived — and ask them if they had any old stale leftovers from the day before. They always graciously found me something to eat.

Just another conniving trick I’d use to tame my belly.

However my biggest crime, the one that is the ultimate truth behind this confession, is the times I stole from you. When I was so hungry that anything would do — anything at all.

Of course I had to be crafty about it, because life wouldn’t have been worth living, if you had known it was me. I suffered silently through my bruising when you thought it ‘may’ have been me.

I hate to imagine what I would have received, punishment wise, if you were 100% convinced, with back up proof, to seal the deal. Thankfully you never could find that proof.

Are we on the same page here? Do you remember what it was you thought I was stealing?

Yes I’m owning up to the fact that I would steal, every opportunity possible, to tame my hunger pains.

As I explained, I had to be smart about it, so I would steal sugar, milo and sunshine powdered milk.

I was never foolish enough to steal a large amount. No, I would upend the sugar container over my mouth and once my mouth was full, I would put the container back. As to the milo and milk powder, I would only take a teaspoon at a time.

Okay, okay, it was a very heaped teaspoon of each and never any more, at any given pilfering session.

It was a necessary crime. A victimless crime even. Were you really that hard done by, because I stole just enough, to take the edge off my hunger pains?

So yes dearest step-mother, I did the crime but I more than suffered through my time — tenfold in fact!

And now you know!

Your step-daughter



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About the Creator

Colleen Millsteed

My first love is poetry — it’s like a desperate need to write, to free up space in my mind, to escape the constant noise in my head. Most of the time the poems write themselves — I’m just the conduit holding the metaphorical pen.

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Nice work

Very well written. Keep up the good work!

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  1. Heartfelt and relatable

    The story invoked strong personal emotions

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Comments (1)

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  • Jason Hauser2 years ago

    That was good. My mother's day story is still in review.

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