When I was 8 years old, my nana told me that there were three kinds of secrets.
First was the secret that affected no one. This was the kind of secret that was incapable of hurting anyone that I loved or adored. It was as simple as picking my nose or scratching my itchy back without anyone seeing.
Second was the secret that did not affect other people but was habile enough to hurt them once this secret was revealed. This was the kind of secret that needed to be kept to save someone from their own pain and suffering. It was similar to how I kept my mouth shut when I found out that my seatmate cheated on our final examination back in Grade 2.
Last was the secret that affected and hurt others whether they knew about it or not. This was the kind of secret that often left a massive impact on one's own life, enough to break a person's heart. It was just like how my brother plotted to get our nanny fired by poisoning me or how my mommy cheated on daddy with her assistant.
In other words, secrets had the potential of either making or breaking us, one step at a time. But one thing was for sure, these secrets continued to haunt us despite of how many times we wanted to bury them alive.
YOU ARE READING
Skin Deep Secrets
General FictionI used to only think about the secrets that I hid. Then, you came and gave me something more to think about.
