seven regrets

A Love of Lying (Elliot)

My name is Elliot and I am addicted to lying.

It started out with a slip of the tongue. My mother asked me once if I had finished my homework.

I said “yes”.

And it only went downhill from there.

--

My parents were honest, hardworking people. We lived in a small town that was located right in the middle of a town called Nowhere. Was that what it was actually called? No, but if I told you, you probably would have said that you had never heard of it before.

Anyhoo, one day on Earth, in a town called Nowhere, in a small town, in an even smaller house, a mother and her son were arguing.

The son had lied to her about not pick pocketing a stranger whom he had seen in the mall, and it just so happened that his mother did not appreciate being lied to.

Needless to say, the son got the belt that night.

I still have the scars. I’d show them to you, but I know that if I did, my mother would start turning over in her grave. See, she never did like bragging either.

--

I guess you’re wondering why I fancy lying so much.

I wonder that too, actually. It’s a pretty darn good question.

I guess, to put it simply, I liked it because I didn’t have to be who I really was. Why worry about people not liking your personality when you could just be someone else? It was all a game to me. It was like picking off a restaurant menu. Hmm, what should I be today? Grumpy? Cheerful? I’d better be cool and aloof if I wear this shirt. It’ll match better.

My poor mother had to give me the belt countless times because of my “tendencies”. That toughened me up, both my spirit and my skin.

That’s why when I found the balloon in my driveway, I brushed it off as nothing more than the work of an emotional teenager looking for attention.

There was something in that deflated black balloon that stirred up my curiosity, though. It was the fact that there was a picture of a couple and their baby inside it.

And the fact that that couple and their baby looked exactly like my parents and me.