A/N: This was a creative writing assignment about lies. We had read an essay about the different types of lies that we are all so prone to using. This is totally make believe! This did NOT actually happen! Thanks again for reviewing this!! –Damaged—
"The Ways We Lie"
I have learned the value of lying today. Lies are miraculous; ingenious, really. For without them, a lot more riots and the like would be regular occurrences. And if that becomes "the norm," would they still be labeled as "riots"?
I learned the value of lying today due to the absence of my partaking of the addictive poison. I told nothing but the truth "so help me, God." I didn't even allow myself the luxury of the little white lie. I rolled from under the covers at my usual time of 6:30am, did my morning routines, and didn't even hesitate to tell my younger sister that her choice of outfits was extremely unattractive. Unfortunately, my cruel remark caused her to race back to her room, scramble into a new outfit, and made us both late for our morning classes.
From then on, the day just became more awkward and regretful. I didn't use the excuse that work made me exhausted—no, I told my teacher that she was a bore and a rather unqualified instructor; perhaps she should go back to college. I told the dean that I could care less about what I said. I remarked that anyone could teach about the types of lies and satirize the Old Testament.
I didn't both to hide my disgust at my foreign language teacher's choice of apparel. I didn't tell her my normal comforting words of, "Your shoes are cute, Ma'am!" or "I love that dress!" ... or should I said, "Vous étés très beau aujourd'hui, Madame!" No, I blatantly told her my opinion of the French was lower than my opinions of the British.
After my four classes, I meandered home and greeted my mother. I told her the exact details of my honest day. Mother turned a ghastly shade of white, which quickly transformed into blood-red when she had to sign my Required Parent Conference slip for 'derogatory remarks and insubordination.' And no, sweet mother, I don't feel bad about what I said. She is a bore and I can't stand her. Sue me.
At the close of my day, I laid away thinking endless thoughts. The regret of being so blunt sank upon my shoulders and my eyes became a little moist. It amazed me just how important the art of lying has become in today's society. I felt an immense disgust with it all; a bitter vile rose in the back of my throat and my tears hardened and turned to stone.
What is so horrible about telling the truth? Why are facades, illusions, and flat-out lies so desirous and well-favored? Wouldn't my sister have been grateful for my honesty? Were it not for my expression of disgust toward her clothing, she'd have gone into public and been ridiculed from behind her back. And the school encourages our own personalities. Really, they can afford to be pickier when hiring teachers. Really now
I was proud that I displayed total integrity. I wasn't ashamed of my "harsh" truths. I fell asleep with my feelings of pride. The price of a lie is too expensive for my soul. For now, I will remain who I truly am inside. And I honestly don't care about what you think, so stop patronizing me. Go lie to somebody else.