I am a liar.
I know I lied to my dad this morning. It was stupid.
I said I didn't know where my bratty sister's dumb hat was, when actually, I do know where it is. I didn't take it, but I do know where it is when I said I didn't. It was a stupid waste of a lie, but that's not the point. The point is that I lied.
Maybe I should be happy that I feel bad about lying because it means I still have a conscience, but I'm scared. I'm scared that if I keep lying, I won't have a conscience anymore.
Today it was fiftey nine degrees. It's been so so cold lately; I feel weird without goosebumps on my arms and shivering. I'm glad it's warmer though because I'm always worried that I'm going to get frost bite when I walk in to school from my car. I'm glad there isn't slush all over the parking lot for me to step in anymore.
I promise to stop lying if you promise not to let me lose my conscience......................................I do wonder why I'm bothering to make a deal with a dead person though.
YOU ARE READING
Break me
ChickLitwhat do you do when you can't stand to look at that page anymore but you can't turn to a new one? color over it and make a new picture.
