I'm a Liar

Chapter 1. Lies

I hate being called a liar! Hate it ! Hate it ! Hate it! If you were to call me
a liar, I wouldn't talk to you until you apologized. This hatred did not start over night, the day I started hating being called a liar was when I was in this small Catholic school in the fourth grade. I remember my big old teacher saying "Can each of you tell me one by one what you got on your science test, I gave you yesterday? Because I forgot to put it in the gradebook. So I started rubbishing through my folders and couldn't find that test. But luckily for me, I remembered my grade because I was so proud of myself.

The big old teacher called on the white boy before me and he said I lost my test but I got an 80% and the big old teacher responded "oh, don't worry I'll just put you in as a 90%. Then the teacher said "Michelle what did you get?" with anger in her voice. And I said with proudest in my voice an "88%". She responded and said "oh really where is your test paper?" I told her I didn't have it but I remembered my grade. She said "okay I'll just put you in as a 70%." Then I thought to myself "why"?! If I got an 88 you'd put me as a 70 so as any other fourth grader would do when they got a bad grade, I started to cry.

She noticed that I started crying and told me to wipe my alligator tears away. I don't remember exactly what she said to me but I remember the sentences that is graved in my heart forever and that sentence was "Do you know the story of the boy who cried wolf?!" Right then and there I thought to myself "Did this big nose fat woman just called me a liar?!?"

From that day on I stayed away from people who called me a liar.