I’m guilty of stealing a milk carton from the school refrigerator at age eight. I was thirsty and it was paid for. I did not have milk for lunch. It only happened once.

I’m guilty of eating some cookies before eating dinner a few times when non said to wait until dinner before having desert.

I’m guilty of giving my pet my dinner when I was full.

I’m guilty of disobeying my mother and going outside when I was told to stay in the house.

I’m guilty of kissing a my third cousin on the cheek in a truth or dare.

I’m guilty of giving a boy a kiss before falling in love.

I’m guilty of going places without asking mom permission.

I’m guilty of having s** before I was old enough to know what it is.

I’m guilty of pretending to be sick so I could stay at home because I was ashamed of failing.

I’m guilty of ignoring my friends because I was afraid of what they’d say about me.

I’m guilty of attempting suicide without letting anyone know why I did it.

I’m guilty of throwing away my brothers suits, tearing up his old photos of his girlfriends, throwing away his friends drugs he could not find before the drug dealers found out and loading the gun he used to commit suicide while cleaning it.

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