The comforting effect of truth

I woke up around midnight with my body profusely sweating. I was not able to sleep properly. My conscience was making me feel very guilty. One question was repeating itself in my mind, to tell or not to tell? This was not what I needed now; tomorrow were the exams, and as if the stress was not enough my guilt was not letting me concentrate or sleep. The incident bothered me a lot. My parents didn’t know about it. This whole thought process continued for quite some time. Finally, I made up my mind. At last, I was clear about the course of action I was about to take.

Amit, in one word was a bully. It was a fact that he was hated and dreaded by almost everyone around. Always ready to fight and provoking constantly, unless ignored could make life hard for anyone. He loved terrorizing all the new children who naturally were easy pickings for him. With personal experience, I can vouch that it is not an enjoyable phase for anyone.

Osama bin Laden could have been the President of USA for all he cared, as he only had brawn and no knowledge whatsoever. He also was extremely spoilt at home, and his parents never took any action whenever we complained about his actions. For them, he was an angel who wouldn’t harm a fly let alone bully someone. It was an absurd notion for them and always blamed us. So with his parents convinced that we caused all the trouble and he was an innocent boy trying to give us company, he was always able to dodge trouble. He always got away by telling his own version of events, which they readily believed leaving us to suffer constant bullying.

However, this time the incident was not his fault but mine. We were playing football, and he was dribbling towards our goal. With determination to intercept and stop him, I ran towards him and slide tackled him. The timing of the tackle was off by few milliseconds, but as a result, I ended up making him fall hard onto the ground. The tackle injured him, and he was badly bruised. In his anger, he fought with me to inflict injury on me. After being separated by the others, we had a verbal spat that kept escalating.

Though rage did not let me think clearly, I was still worried about his injury. What if it became more serious?  I was not sure how my parents would react to this, but I had made my mind up. I was ready to tell the truth to my parents and face the consequences. So in the morning, I went straight into their room and told them the truth. I never expected what followed; they readily forgave me and were not angry at all. They were happy that I had the courage to speak the truth. That day, I felt very relaxed. I had no guilt left at all and was happy to tell the truth.

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