When I was six my mother told me never to tell lies.
"Isabella, promise me one thing," she said in a hushed soothing tone while I played with the frills on her dress.
"Don't tell lies. Never turn into them and start lying," her voice had become harder and her eyes narrowed.
I dropped the frilling on her dress and looked her in the eye.
"I promise." I lied.
YOU ARE READING
Finding Megan
Short StoryIrresistible, that's what she was. She had that thing- that thing you can't fake. You know the type? They walk in a room and all eyes are glued to them. Like they're a magnet or something and we're all hopelessly pulled in by the force. Collateral d...
