Sincerity Is Scary Lyrics

Sabrina, born in a silver spoon family don't have any problem except her Older brother coming home. She had a one night stand with her brother's bestfriend before her brother comes home. Everything is great until her brother dissappear

I'm a coward—someone who gets bullied and never fights back, who only swallows the humiliation in silence. That is, until the year I turned twenty. A well-dressed, elegant couple found me and told me I was their long-lost son. Overjoyed, I followed them back to their castle-like home, convinced that I was finally about to live a better life. But on the very first day, the fake heir made it clear—I would never know a moment's peace. I didn't dare say a word. Cowardly as ever, I could only think about ending my life. The first time, I slit my wrists. They saved me. The second time, I tried to jump off a building. My sister dragged me back. The third time, I drank an entire bottle of pesticide—and still didn't die. … My family finally saw through the fake heir's true color. "So it was you, pulling the strings all along!" My sister plead, "Brother dear, I'm begging you—please don't kill yourself."

I'm learning to swim when my childhood friend, Vivian Thorne, fakes a cramp. My boyfriend, Oliver Wilde, suddenly lets go of my hand and swims toward her. I'm left alone in the two-yard-deep pool, completely stunned. After Oliver carries Vivian ashore, he smiles as he watches me thrash around. "Vivian says you rely on me too much and need a push to learn, so just swim over here yourself." I choke on water and sink. At the sight of my struggle, Vivian laughs so hard she slaps her thigh. Oliver says something to her, then drapes a towel over her shoulders in resignation. Even though I can't hear what he says, I bet it must be, "Now that you've had your laugh, don't tease her the next time. Aria is already pitiful enough with her fear of water." It's true that I was born with a fear of water. I've known them for seven years. All this time, Oliver and Vivian have been tormenting me under the guise of helping me overcome my fear of water. In college, at the beach, Vivian deliberately pushes me off the speedboat. Oliver jumps in to shield her and watches me swallow a bellyful of seawater in the waves. On the graduation rafting trip, Vivian suddenly capsizes the kayak. Oliver swims over to pull her up and watches me slam into a rock, my leg bleeding nonstop. Last year at the water park, Vivian shoves me down the waterslide. Oliver slides down to catch her and leaves me in the pool, nearly suffocating with fear. Every time, my fear and despair are met with a burst of laughter from Vivian. Meanwhile, Oliver stands behind her, always saying the same thing. "No more next time." However, the next time always turns into Vivian's new way of having fun at my expense. Water floods into my mouth and nose, the suffocation shooting straight to the top of my skull. But suddenly, I realize that I can actually float on my own. I grab the safety rope and haul myself ashore. Two pairs of hands reach out to pull me up, but I push them away. "From now on, I don't need you two to help me build up my courage anymore."

I was born a liar. That was the label my mother gave me. In the Dark Moon Pack, every pup carries a Lunar Mark on their wrist. Green means truth. Red means liar. My twin sister Maya slashed Mommy's ceremonial dress with a blade and blamed the pack hounds. Her wrist stayed soft and green. My mark went crimson when I said I was cold. "Mommy, I'm telling the truth. Please believe me." Elena would crouch down, look me in the eye, and say the same thing every time. "The Goddess's mark is absolute, Selena. Your own heart betrays you." She never touched me. She just looked at my wrist with disgust. No matter how honest I tried to be, my heart would race when I was scared. And every time my pulse spiked, the mark turned red. I lied when I said I was hungry. I lied when I said I loved her. I lied when I cried. After enough years, I stopped fighting back. I started to believe her. Maybe I really was broken. Maybe I was just born wrong. The night I died, I wrote one last line in my Penance Journal. "Mommy, help me. It hurts. Please — just believe me once." She never saw it. She had already locked the door and walked away. I'm sorry, Mommy. I died still trying to get it right. In my next life — will you hold me?

Before the drop tower started, my best friend gave a look, and my boyfriend, with perfect tacit understanding, suddenly unbuckled his safety harness and ran off with her. I was left completely stunned on the drop tower by myself. My boyfriend stood in the safety zone with a beaming smile. "Freya said you're a scaredy-cat and need to be frightened more to get braver, so you're riding alone." The drop tower started. Looking at my comical appearance when terrified, my best friend held her stomach, laughing uproariously as she took photos. My boyfriend opened his mouth to say something as he helplessly steadied the camera lens for her. I couldn't hear the words he said, but I guessed it must have been: "Once you've laughed enough, don't tease her again. It's bad enough Cleo's so shy." I'm a timid person. Growing up together for twenty years, this was always how they accompanied me to build my bravery. When we were little, my best friend intentionally threw pebbles to draw over stray dogs. Then, he carried her on his back to climb up a wall, leaving me to be chased by the dogs and run all over the courtyard. During high school, in the vaulting class, my best friend suddenly pulled away the mat. He laughed and kicked away the rolling foam pad, watching me receive two bloody gashes from the impact. In college, we went on a night hike together. My best friend intentionally shook me off, and he followed her into the bushes to make noises, leaving me in the dark, so terrified I couldn't catch my breath. Every single time I shook with fear, it was met with a bout of loud laughter from my best friend. And standing behind her, he was forever saying a single phrase: "Don't do it next time." However, each "next time" would turn into a new joke for her happiness. The drop tower climbed to twenty meters, and the sensation of weightlessness pushed right up to the back of my throat. Suddenly, though, I felt there was nothing left to be afraid of. The drop tower reached the ground, and two pairs of hands reached over to support me. I pushed them away. "From now on, I don't need you guys to help me build my courage anymore."

Have you ever been confused by what you've been feeling? Precisely, a sense of hatred and strangely tucked away a concern?