I was young and my parents were out of town, so I was sent away to a babysitter whose son had downs. She had a daughter too, who sometimes played with me, but she was boring, as girls to five year olds can be. The daughter showed me her latest toy, a music box with a ballerina in it dancing, she was so proud of it that she was going on about it and romancing. I wandered off to the other side of the room, and then I felt a pain in my back, heard a crash and then a boom, and then the sound of a wood-on-wood crack. I looked behind and all the other kids were looking back at me, the music box was on the ground and so I picked it up to see. It was trashed, and the ballerina was very dead, it's legs were snapped off and it was missing most of it's head. The girl started screaming and pointing at me, I protested but her mother said that she knew that it was me. "My daughter wouldn't lie, besides, all the other boys said they saw you do it with their very own eyes." "But I didn't! I would never ever!" I cried.
She locked me in a bedroom and left me to sulk and sob for several hours. She demanded I confess but lies were not within my power. Eventually my dad came and picked me up, she told him how I'd destroyed the toy, and then lied to cover it all up, I promised him I didn't in the car whilst we were riding home, he said "okay" in a non-committal way because it was my word against someone fully grown. It was the first time in my life that I was blamed unjustly, and no matter what I said everyone refused to trust me.
When we arrived home my father handed me a small gift, inside was a plastic wind-up turtle that he'd bought me whilst on his previous shift. We filled the bathroom sink and watched the turtle happily paddle around, but all the splashes couldn't wash the tarnish off my hopes, for they were all already drowned.