What is Truth

Chapter 1

                Truth is rarely pure and never simple.  Fact is fiction as fiction is fact. Who knows which or what the truth is. People are not made liars. People are not made honest. There are books full of history, encyclopedias full of knowledge, but if you weren’t there to watch events unfold, It didn’t happen. It never happens exactly as they say. Time wears down truth, possibly to the point of them becoming lies. So here I write the greatest question I’ve ever come across in my life: What is Truth?

“Why. Does. He. Love. To. Damage. My. Brain. Cells. Like. This.” Each word was followed by a loud bang as Emma repeatedly banged her head against the desk. Laughing, I slid the closest jacked between her head and the desk, muffling the bang. Her voice let out a groan of frustration.

“I think you’re damaging your brain cells more than Mr. Roland does.” Another groan of frustration.

“But this doesn’t lower my grade as fast. I hate those discussions.” I laughed again watching my friend whine about her lack of speaking during the “what is truth” discussion in English class.

“Well, it’s all over now, and he can’t actually fail you because you did talk.”

“Ames, please. He’s going to fail me even if I ace every last assignment he gives me. I swear the man hates me. To think I took that class because I though he was hot.” Emma stopped banging her head to face me now.

“He has a wife, Ems, and two kids.” I said laughing at how all last year she kept talking about Mr. Roland like he was a new male model.

“And?!” Luckily the bell rang before any further comments could be made. Emma was starting to get loud again. Both of us were up out of our seats and down the hallway in no time. Neither of us enjoyed Mr. Roland’s class, and he was known for talking to students about their grades if they waited too long to leave class.

“Fine I’ll stop talking about him, but then you have to come to the party tonight with me,” Emma said as she purposefully leaned against my closed locker.

“Ems, move,” I said shoving her out of the way. “You know I can’t I’ve got world history to study for. You do know we have a huge test on Monday, right?” Somehow I managed to withhold my laughter as the blonde’s bright blue eyes grew five times wider.

“I thought we just took one today?!” she yelled, her voice echoing down the hallway.

“We did,” I said, turning around to hide my smile. Soon enough my blonde friend caught on and walked with me to the parking lot.

“I seriously hate you sometimes,” Emma said knocking her hip against mine.

“And I seriously hate watching you ogle our English teacher.”

“Fine I’ll stop. For now. Anyways so that party tonight. Are you up for it, my crazy redheaded stepchild who loves to steal souls?”

“I’m not a ginger, and we both know that. I get people to steal souls for me, and of course I am.”

Like I teased Emma about her natural blonde straightness, she teased me for my deep red waves. Unlike her decisive hair, mine could never decide whether to be wavy or straight, so it always stuck somewhere in the middle.

“So, is your aunt still out of town like she has been for who knows when?” I looked over and gave Emma the look. By now she knew that meant she was saying something stupid. “Alright then you can expect me there around six. I’ll catch you then, Amy!”  I watched as my energetic friend bounded over to her current boy toy, Reese Maddox.

Ever since moving here back in middle school Emma and I have been a pair. The first time we met was in the girls bathroom as we were skipping class because we got bored. Later, when we got detention for writing on the bathroom mirrors that day, was the moment we became out school’s infamous duo. The devious blonde and the soulless redhead, The Devil’s Duo, or as our teachers like to refer to us, trouble with a capital T. Since that fateful day Hedgecliff High has been dealt a portion of our arsenal. My personal favorite was the day we hacked the school’s speakers.