Disclaimer: Imaginary in parts.
The story that the people knew made me a criminal. They pelted stones at me. Some of them thought I should be thrown out. Some others thought I should resign.
I looked at you on my side. You were stern too. One look in your eyes and I knew I had done something wrong. Your voice had the confidence that only you could have in me. You assured me that I would overcome the bad phase, that the 'stone-pelters' know only the part of the story where I certainly am the criminal. And that nothing affects your belief in me.
I accepted the portion of the accusations where I was considered guilty. The grip of your hand holding mine became tighter. Nothing else mattered. I faced the stones with a smile.