Journal #6 - Wrongly Accused

There was a time in my life where I was heading in a downward spiral towards oblivion. At that time in my life, I did some very bad things. I just was not myself. I remember it like it was yesterday. Oh wait, it was yesterday. I was sitting at my kitchen table and decided that I was starving. I walked across the kitchen and opened up my cookie jar. My grandmother had given me that cookie jar, and she made a habit of filling it with delicious, warm baked chocolate chip cookies. Since it was Friday, I knew the jar had to be close to empty, so I assumed that there would be at least one cookie left in the bottom of the jar. As I opened the jar, to my horror, I stared at the bottom of the empty jar. I was absolutely furious, but I calmly walked into the living room where my family was watching t.v. The first thing I did was pointed directly at my sister. I knew she had done it. She ate my cookie. She tried to deny it, but she was lying up a storm. My parents backed me up completely, they told her to go straight to her room. After that, my parents called the police and a few minutes later, there was a knock at my door. The men in uniform walked up the stairs and carted her away to jail. She was sentenced to life in jail without parole, and she was not allowed any visitors. I walked back into the kitchen after the whole ordeal was over, and realized that the cookie was at the bottom of the jar, stuck to the side of the container. Oh well. She probably had it coming. After all, I did owe her a birthday present, and a trip to a state penitentiary is worth no amount of money, unless you calculate it in state tax dollars.