This happened during middle school. My group of friends, my cousin and I were eating lunch together, when I am grabbed by the shoulder by one of the teachers monitoring the lunchroom. Now this teacher was about 6'5" with a beard like satan, he was more a coach than teacher. Even without taking any of his classes I was scared of even walking near the guy as I was very shy and he was loud and intimidating. This teacher proceeds to tell me that my backpack is leaking, in a slightly louder than usual voice (which is by default very loud). I am startled, and look down to see a thin red sportsdrink-like puddle surrounding my backpack. I was confused because I didn't have any sportsdrinks in my backpack. Naturally I lift my backpack out of the puddle and try to shake off the liquid to protect my belongings. Not before the Teacher yells at me to "shake it off outside, doorknob" while violently gesturing towards the nearby open door. He called me a "Doorknob", not a very demeaning or clever name to call a student, but it hurt all the same. By this point I am stunned in silence, wishing I was anywhere else while I carry my bag outside leaving a trail of droplets, creating an even larger mess. I shake it off under his supervision and slowly build up the courage to tell him it was not my backpack that was leaking. He loudly denies that it could have been anybody else but me, despite my cousin's backpack being right next to mine. I open my bag and show him that there is nothing to see, he says nothing. He then goes off to find somebody to mop up the liquid. When I return to the table, it turns out that it was in fact my cousin's bag that was leaking Poweraid, yet I got all of the blame for something I didn't do. It wasn't a traumatizing experience, but it is one that I remember every so often.