defying guilt

so i remember this again, from time to time, and it's resurfaced today, for some reason. you were maybe 5 or 6, maybe younger, hard to tell. we were in our room at the old apartment. you were being a brat, as usual, and pissing me off, at that moment. i had a plastic hanger in my hand and i swung it, not meaning to actually hit you, but i guess i did. i instantly felt bad. you had a tiny cut on your hand. it was red but barely bleeding. you started screaming and ran to mom to tell on me. i defended myself based on my opinion that even if the hanger did touch you, it couldn't have made that cut you were crying over. i said you probably did that yourself. but i was really defending myself in an effort to defy my guilt.

there might have been a moral to this story, but i'm multitasking too much right now to reflect on one.