Tell Me Lies A Novels & Stories

Next to the fact that he lied. ⚘ little ⊹ lies ··································································································································

I tried to cover her mouth—but my hand passed right through her face. "Aunt Macey, Uncle Roger... I've been wanting to tell you this for a while. Samantha has a boyfriend at the construction site. He's broke and ugly, but she's decided to run away with him back to his hometown to get married. She made me promise not to tell you..." I clawed at Lola's lying mouth. "Shut up! Shut up! I don't have a boyfriend! Lola, why are you doing this to me?!" But I was already dead. There was nothing I could do to stop her.

I replied with a shrug. "Let's just say that I'm curious because I'm bored and also because anybody could be interested in hearing how two lovers met and since I don't have anything else that I'm doing with my time, I just want to listen to a story about how you met him. So, will you tell me or are you going to ask me to mind my business?" I asked. I desperately wanted her to tell me the truth but I'm not expecting her to be completely honest with me because it would make it obvious that their story wasn't exactly normal but I still wanted to hear her say something because I believe that in every lie, there's always an iota of truth.

He inquires and I clear my throat. “See, I know when you lie, you have a tell. It’s a very small one, but it’s there. Every time you lie, you do it.” He explains and I am intrigued. Really? He is very observant, I will give him that, for even I didn’t realize that I had a tell. “What’s the tell?” I ask him as I purse my lips. “I’m not telling you. You would just find a better way to lie the next time.” He says and I chuckle, for he is right.

But here I am pleasing you, I hope you like the story so far, I promise it gets better. Just incase I get famous in the future by any chance, here's my i*******m : @faithodulesi . Hehe.

He took the headphones off and asked, “Why do you think you need to lie to me?” I blinked. That wasn’t how I expected this conversation to go. “The only thing you haven’t lied to me about is your real name and that doesn’t count since I don’t know your last name.” “I need my job. College is expensive and if I want to be enrolled this fall then I need to be able to pay tuition.” I looked away from him. Suddenly he was too close and I needed space.

I fell on purpose. "She knew about your disloyalty. And when you slapped her, that shattered whatever was left between you." Zoey burst into hysterical laughter, but Julian's face turned grim. Suddenly, he grabbed her by the throat. "How dare you—do you have a death wish?" Zoey's face turned red, but she looked up at him with adoring eyes. “Because I love you, Julian… You lied to me. If I have to suffer, I’ll make sure you do too."

"We tell her it's for a background piece. A club history feature for the social channels. It's plausible. It's what you do." She almost smiled. "You're good at this." "At lying?" He leaned back in the chair, his eyes never leaving hers. "I've had years of practice. Pretending I didn't love you was the hardest lie I ever told." The words hung in the air. She looked away, her face warming. "Don't do that," she whispered. "Do what?" "Say things like that. We're supposed to be solving a mystery, not—"

“Then, I read this. That man lost almost everything. The world around him fell apart, and he just kept going. So, I thought, if he could keep living after all that, what excuse did I have to give up?” She shifted slightly in her wheelchair and nodded toward the empty space beside her. “Want to sit for a minute?” So, I sat down. Sunlight streamed through the window and warmed the blanket that draped across her knees. “What about you?” she asked. “What happened?” I sat there in silence for a long time. It was long enough that she probably thought I was not going to answer. “I was lied to for five years,” I said. “I lost my career, my relationship, and my family. My dad died because of me.”

But when she thought about it later, as she lay nestled in his arms in her bed, she thought that telling lies and telling the truth had a few things in common. She'd learned that if you told one lie, then you were pretty much guaranteed to have to tell another one to explain or justify or cover up that first lie. Then a third lie, to protect the first two lies. Then a fourth, to shore things up and to keep the house of lies from falling down. And on and on, lie after lie, until it was like a snowball barreling on down a hill. You told one lie and then you couldn't stop telling more of them.