Elisabeth Tweedy

Accused

“I didn’t do it! I didn’t poison my sister!” was always my plea. Being a young child then and getting accused of poisoning one of the most precious people in my life, had put a toll on my 6-year-old self. Seeing through my father’s hazel eyes, and that scowling look he gave me, made those salty, clear tears fall faster down my pink chipmunk cheeks. It was one of the worst quiet moments ever —silence drifted throughout the house. You could hear the faint pitter-patter of our little dog’s feet, walking on the kitchen tile.