Candid

Chapter 1

Lies, lies, lies. We all say them, even animals lie, and if you say you don't; you're lying. It's not that we tell lies to ruin someone's day or to cause chaos in society, well not always, but we say them nonetheless. Why do we do it though? If you want the truth, and trust me some people don't, it's because lying is easier. That's why my second semester of 8th grade was so hard; I couldn't lie. Not because I had found my inner peace and decided lying was immoral or I had agreed to some dumb dare. It was because my body refused to let any false information leave my body. I'm being literal here too. It was like I had an allergy to lies except my body would block these fibs and untruths from coming out to prevent an "allergic reaction." I should probably explain my dilemma from the beginning, which was at my grandfather's funeral.

Grandpa Bruno had died of heart failure on December 16th whilst sleeping. Long story short we had an awkward Christmas, the funeral was even worse. There I was dressed in black sitting next to my little sister as we sat teary-eyed with a bunch of other teary-eyed people as we listened to my aunt Sienna talk. She stood at the podium where everyone in the tea-smelling church could see. My aunt Sienna is also quite short so she had to adjust the microphone while trying not to burst into tears. Let's just say she couldn't do both at the same time and covered the podium in tears. Nevertheless, she talked.

"My father was a kind, hardworking man and cared about helping his family and friends, but most importantly he was honest. His honesty was what got him through life. Telling the truth got him the job he wanted, the wife he loved, and the kids he raised. He always said, 'If you live with lies then what's the point of calling it reality?' I know the New Year is coming up so, in honor of him, can we have being honest our New Year resolution? Speaking of resolutions I remember one year my dad..." Aunt Sienna continued to talk, but I stopped listening because I was too hung up on the whole not lying grandpa. As I racked my brain of memories of him, I realized he really never did lie. He was never afraid to tell someone that they should change their outfit or that they can't sing or even that what someone had said was stupid. My sister even gave him the nickname Blunt Bruno. I found that funny, but stopped myself from chuckling at a funeral. The rest of the funeral was a blur and next thing you know I'm being driven home. My grandma Jane was there too. She was staying with us until early January.

"You know," my grandma said, "you look a lot like your grandpa when he was your age." I remember seeing some photos of when my grandpa was younger, but they were all black and white. "Short, brown hair, blue eyes, I think you even have the same chin as him." "Don't be surprised if you grow up to look like him." She looked at my mom and smiled. "Your father did age gracefully." She smiled back. They were empty smiles of course, for smiles can't fill a space where someone has left. We all eventually stopped our mourning and we all felt ourselves again to pursue other things. In other words, things got less sappy and we went back to our regular routine. I still remembered what aunt Sienna said about resolutions though, my whole family did too and we agreed to be completely honest with each other after the ball dropped. That's when things started to get troublesome.