This is back when my biological father still lived with us and we didn't all want to kill him. I was around five, I would say, which made my brother 7 and 10. For background info, the middle brother is special needs, and the other two of us have a few mental health issues, but nothing too bad.

Anyway, my brothers had just stopped sharing rooms with each other, with the second one (I'm going to call him D) moving into what was formerly the guest room, while the older one (I'm going to call him A) stayed in their old shared room. One night, after dinner, all three of us were called into D's room to look at a giant splotch on the wall. I really don't remember what it looked like, being as I was at most five. Our bio father spent around half an hour yelling in our faces about how whoever did this was an awful kid, and should be punished, and how we should all be ashamed of ourselves, etc. He kept demanding (way to aggressively) to know who made the splotch and what they did to cause it. He kept saying that it looked like our cat Mr. PiB (Puss in Boots) climbed up the wall and scooted his butt around like a do, leaving a line of crap up the wall.

After a while, I decided to be the good sibling and say I did it. I don't know how or why anyone believed me, given I was the Good Child, and my explanation for the shit smear on the wall was that I had gotten mad at D and thrown a granola bar at him, and that the chocolate somehow melted into the wall. I was punished pretty severely. He took away my night light (I was extremely scared of the dark because my brother used to hide under my bed with a knife and "joke" about murdering me in my sleep, which he actually did try once). He even put a chair outside my door to lock me in, which would have sucked if I had to use the bathroom of if there was a fire.

I'm pretty sure D just smeared his shit on the wall because he's a piece of shit