What started out as enjoyment was quickly replaced with fear and dread. As I lay in lofty yellow grass, the sun is warm and everything is peaceful. Except me. I listen to the whispers of the wind telling me my decision was hasty and wrong. In my heart, I know they’re right. Lying is never the right answer, however big or small the lie may be. But the truth would have just hurt them, so why do I feel so bad about sparing them pain? Morals schmorals, I was only trying to protect them. Or was I only trying to protect myself?
My name is Anya Storm. I am currently 18, still stuck at home for the remainder of the summer, and I’m a liar. I wouldn’t say I’m a compulsive liar or anything, but the first step of recovery is admitting it to yourself. So I, Anya, am a liar. Confused yet? Let’s go back to the beginning.
It all started with my new-found addiction and passion; painting. Sophomore year of high school I began painting and instantly fell in love with it. Naturally, my new profession to strive for became a painter. I’m not saying I’m Van Gogh or Picasso, but painting was something I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Pretty soon, this addiction overshadowed homework, and soon grades. I don’t know about you, but last I checked you don’t need to know E=mc² in order to paint. Therefore, I little to no ambition to do anything that would not help me become a better artist. Which in turn, lead me to only getting A’s in art class.
Now, if you know my parents, you know they are perfectionists. Getting a “B” in a class is practically failing, so surely seeing the “D”s and “F”s on my report cards would give them heart attacks, and I couldn’t sit around and let that happen! So the first lie comes into play. My report card came around just as usual, only this one littered with horrid grades. I was desperate, before thinking I got out the “White Out” and began erasing, and ever so carefully replacing the letters with golden A’s. I then re-copied the report and mailed it to myself. My first reaction was pride; it was beautiful work! The second reaction was of course, guilt. I then promised to myself this would be the first and last time I would be doing this, and I would improve my grades the old fashion way. Second lie.
The first month after the report card fiscal, I did exactly what I planned to do; improve my grades. But as any high school kid knows, Trig is so ridiculous. If I really wanted to know exactly how far that tree is from the building, I wouldn’t be using equations that take up half a page of notebook paper! So there went the first “A”. Chemistry was a close second when the assignment of trying to find how many covalent bonds are in my Cheerios came about. Writing was not quite so horrible, but the endless amount of useless writing assignments left me weary. As you can imagine, at this point, my grades were hopeless and will power nonexistent.
The second report card came around, and I had no choice but to change the grades again. My parents were so happy that I was maintaining practically a 4.0 GPA, so how could I not? Third lie. My will power fluctuated over the years, but I changed my grades on every report card to keep the happy smiles in place at home. I stopped counting the lies after the third.
Beginning of senior year was here. And anyone over 18 knows what that means. Talk of college. I’ve been dreading this for quite a while now, and I wasn’t sure what I was going to tell my parents. I knew very well that no college is going to want a kid with a 1.5 GPA average. Remember the fear and dreaded feelings from earlier? This is where they surface.
So I’m lying in this peaceful field, wishing I were that robin sitting in the tree above me and just fly away. I definitely could not tell my parents that I had lied all those times about my grades. They’re so peachy keen with me they’d probably think I was kidding! I plan to apply to colleges because it’s what the rents expect, but what if they see one of the rejection letters? I could work my magic on a letter as I did the report cards and change that “Sorry but no” into a jolly “Congratulations!”, but what would I do when it comes time to apply for classes or move in?
So my dilemma is this: tell the truth and my parents will be forever disappointed in their only daughter, or, lie my butt off and see how far I get until it all backfires? I wish I had never started the lies in the first place. I’m hearing “tell the truth” from every direction, I swear even that robin is trying to tell me! But do I have the guts to really say all of those lies out loud? Let’s face it. I’m going to have to tell the truth. With a sigh, I tell myself, “Anya, we got ourselves in this mess, now we have to get ourselves out.”
I decided I couldn’t possibly break their hearts completely, but I had to tell them the truth. At least some of it. Another lie. What I really told my parents was that I was only getting a 3.1 GPA and that my teachers had gotten some of the “A”s mixed up with “B”s, and that the correct GPA would be printed on the next report card. At least that’s not as farfetched as a 4.0! My parents were disappointed of course, but after hours of swearing up and down I’d get it back up, they let it go.
A week later, I get a strange call from my mother telling me to come home right after school because she and my father had something to discuss with me. Ice cold fear rushes through my veins. I know immediately that it’s all over for me. I doddle and take my time getting home, knowing the awful fate that awaits me. I finally walk into the door and my parents are sitting at the kitchen table, ushering me to sit down as well.
“I got a call from your principal this morning. Do you know what he said? He said that you’re grade point average was currently at a 1.3 GPA and that you will not be able to graduate with the rest of your class this year if drastic measures are not being done soon.” My mother said. You know the saying ‘if looks could kill…’ well, I felt I was just murdered.
“We just cannot believe you only have maintained a 1.3 GPA! I didn’t even know that was possible! How could you pull off a 4.0 on you report cards?!” My dad began to yell.
I couldn’t even say anything. I was in pure terror. I knew lying to my parents was wrong, especially on something like this. This is one of the moments in life where everything slows down and you see your dad stand up and begin yelling but it’s all happening in slow motion, with everything put on mute. So what would you do? I waited until the yelling was over and I did the only thing I could do, tell the truth.
I told them everything. I told them about how my grades started to go down ever since I started painting. I told them how useless chemistry and trigonometry are to me, and that I don’t even understand what’s happening in those classes. I told them about how I changed my grades on every report card since halfway through sophomore year. I told them that I couldn’t stand to break their hearts and show them how bad my grades are, so I changed them to keep them happy. Lastly, I told them that painting was my absolute passion. That I knew that was the career I wanted and nothing could stop me from doing it.
First and foremost, the punishments came raining down on me. I had to kiss my car goodbye, and ride the dreaded bus. I had to check in with the principal before every class, and I couldn’t miss a single day. Not only would I be attending day school, but night school as well from 4 to 8. My wonderful privileges of eating out and not having to eat questionable school lunch were gone. I also was assigned a counselor to help with the time management of finishing my homework on time, and a tutor to help with the questions. The worst was when they took my precious easel and paint away. On top of all of that, my weekends would be spent doing community service, helping kids that did not have nearly as many educational opportunities as I.
Following the punishments, were the few dozen phone calls to the school. We managed to figure out ways to get my grades up in time to graduate this year with the rest of my class. Which was a miracle considering how low my grade point average was! It looks like I’ll have my hands full the rest of this year, working my butt off instead of lying it off!
I took this all in, knowing that I deserved every bit of it. The community service actually became very beneficial to me as well as the kids. They taught me how important education is, and that I should be lucky to have the education I was able to have. Of course I felt guilty for what I did, but I don’t wish I could take it back. I’ve learned to really appreciate the opportunities I am presented with in life, and most of all I learned the consequences lying can have. Needless to say, I most definitely learned my lesson. Lying is never the right option however big or small that lie may be.