Sorry, I made you the scapegoat

I should have told you this before, considering we have been lifelong friends. Not besties but close enough. It's time you knew that I am the reason you got in trouble with our teacher, Mrs. Thomas, and were punished in fourth grade, and I am sorry. 

Each time you mentioned the incident, I vowed never to tell you the truth. Now, looking back, it's humorous, but on that fateful day, I was just a scared kid who did not desire to draw attention to myself.

Do you remember that the elementary school had restrooms outside at the end of each building? Mrs. Thomas said they were made for a climate like Florida, not Virginia. 

On this day, the girls lined up to walk to the restroom, which had an outer room before you entered, where the stalls and sinks were. About eight of us were inside the first room, and it was crowded.

Alicia Mack bumped into me, and I fell against the wall, and my back hit the light switch. In the dark, I fell to my knees and crawled to the front of the group. Even though it had been an accident, I knew there would be trouble if anyone knew it was my fault.

It was chaos for a few moments. Girls were screaming, cursing, and falling into one another. I was in the front and stood up and pushed open the door to the inside. As I did, someone cut the other light back on. Thankfully, no one knew I was at fault. "Yeah, me."

As everyone made their way inside to pee, there was laughter at what had happened. A few girls' hair was out of place, and one girl's shoestrings were untied, and she tripped and almost fell. They all looked bewildered, and I laughed so hard I wet myself. 

I quickly ran into a stall and had to throw my underwear in the trash when no one was looking. I was so glad that in the confusion, none of the girls realized what had happened.

Several classmates who were bullies were angry because they had bruised arms from falling against the wall. They said they were going to find out who cut out the light and fight them after school. It was assumed that it had been done on purpose.

I was one of the shortest and thinnest students, and fear set in. After we returned to the classroom, Daisy Jackson went to the teacher's desk. Mrs. Thomas then called for you, Anna Payne, to come forward.

She said Daisy had been the secret monitor and had reported that you cut out the lights and caused several girls to fall. You had been standing behind me, so you were the scapegoat after I crawled away. You pleaded your innocence, and I remained quiet.

Part of me was happy I dodged a bullet, but I was also sad for you. I'm sorry Mrs. Thomas did not listen to you and consider that Daisy might be wrong.

The situation was made worse when a few other girls who wanted to get on the good side of the bully agreed with her, even though they had not seen who caused the lights to go out.

If I came forward and said Alicia bumped me, and I fell into the light switch, she might want to fight me. Daisy would be angry that, as a monitor, she named the wrong girl, and she would threaten me. The other girls would not like me disagreeing with them, so I remained silent.

Alicia and Daisy were two of the biggest students in the fourth grade, and everyone was afraid of them. Most of us were nine, but they were eleven. The teacher made you stand in the corner until the bell rang, and everybody snickered.

I never asked if the mean girls retaliated, and you never said. I'm sorry for your humiliation, but if you think back, you will recall that I was teased a lot because I was small and quiet. I did not desire to endure additional torture. 

You should remember the day when I would not give Daisy the cake in my lunch, and she commanded all the girls not to talk to me at recess. You were supposed to be my good friend, but you went along with the crowd. 

You were not a mean girl, but neither did you get bullied. I decided that this one time was not going to damage you the way constantly being picked on had damaged me.

Perhaps a part of me decided that you should be the victim for a change. Still, I suffered that day as well. No one knew that I sat there in class for an hour without underwear on. I kept my legs crossed at my desk and walked home very carefully.

I guess we both had a bad day, but at the time, I was ecstatic because I was a shy, scared fourth grader who escaped shame twice. I knew that even though the lights going off had been an accident, I would suffer if I came forth. I did not face the wrath of the mean girls or the laughter that would have come if anyone knew I wet my pants.

 In my mind, you, standing in the corner and facing the wrath of Daisy and Alicia on this one day, was no big deal. I thought perhaps you deserved it because you did not stand up for me on the playground. The other girls lying on you put you in the same spot I was in at recess when no one talked to me.

Several times over the years, you brought up that day and said you wondered what had actually happened. Now you know. The adult in me appologizes but the kid in me is still glad that for once I was not the one shamed. I hope you understand.