Saturday Stories #12 A scene where one person is questioning if another is lying

Rediscover a love for fiction, because stories can change the world

These fiction stories are unedited, unfiltered, and written in 15-25 minutes. Please be aware that they may contain intense material related to emotional healing, trauma recovery, and redirected fears.

Note: there are sounds of sirens and dogs howling in the audio- the audio can be accessed at the end of the story.

Written June 17, 2013 at the Berkeley Creative Living Center

“Where were you? Why are you back so late?” The mother asked her 15-year old daughter.

“The bus was late,” the daughter said. She was fidgeting with her hands and twisting her toe around in the carpet.

“The bus was three hours late?”

“Well first the bus was late and I went to find a pay phone to call and tell you I was going to be late.”

“A pay phone?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t use my phone because the battery died. So, while I was finding the phone the bus came. I ran to catch it before I had time to call.” Her eyes were shifty, blue eyes, darting around.

“That doesn’t make up for three hours.”

“Well it takes an hour between buses at night…and actually they stop running so I had to walk. I got here as fast as I could.”

Just then a phone went off. It was the daughters. She fumbled it out of her jeans pocket and quickly turned it off.

“Last I knew dead phones didn’t ring.”

“Well, maybe it wasn’t dead, dead. I just couldn’t get any service. Anyway, all that walking made me tired. Can I go to bed, it’s late?”

“Late, it certainly is.”

“Okay, well, good night.”

“Hold it,” the mother said. She held up her hand indicating stop.

The daughter stopped.

“I don’t believe a word you said, your grounded.”

“Mom, no, seriously, I’m not lying.”

“Go to your room.”

“Yes, Ma’am, but I’m telling the truth.

“Also, don’t think I don’t smell alcohol on your breath.”

“No, just my hand sanitizer, it’s alcohol based.”

“And what’s that on your neck, a hickey?”

The daughter’s face flushed. She rolled her eyes and turned to go. “Good night, mom,” she said in a tone that seemed to say, “stupid mom.”

“Good Night,” the mother said. She signed and walked the hallway down to her room. She gently shut the door and climbed into bed and started crying as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Today’s Insights

When I worked with teens at the group home, I hated not trusting them. I hated accusing them of lying and questioning what they were telling me. I was also sad because I wanted them to be okay and to be safe and sometimes when I was there they left the house and got hurt. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to be a parent. Even those teens who I knew for less than a year impacted me when they lied to me and when they were hiding hurt and shame or when I was what stood in the way of what they wanted to do or how they were trying to get their needs met. I wanted to help, but I was limited, and I didn’t always know what to do.

I’ve also been on the other side of this where I was the one drinking and lying about it. Where I hid from those I loved who I wanted a connection with because the pleasure of alcohol was stronger than my ability to form an attachment. When drinking everything changed for me and I’d do anything to keep drinking even hurt someone I cared about and who I knew cared about me.  

Thinking about the prompt itself – “A scene where one person is questioning if another is lying” I think of the two-part video that I just finished watching from a friend. The people in the video question a major assumption that many have been taught and present evidence that tells a different story. A story that is polarizing different than what I’ve been taught to believe, one that turns the world upside down, or maybe just inside out. They point out the way’s society lies to children about Santa to create a sense of wonder and how this sets children up to be lied to and to lie. I personally think that having a belief in Santa gave me a sense of wonder that I carry today, but perhaps it also gave me that seed of doubt that when I am told a story that I want to investigate it for myself because I don’t fully believe that people are telling the truth, or perhaps I just know that people are capable of lying because I’ve seen it and I’ve participated in the Santa story.

Another side of this, is that I want to believe people. So, I believe both sides of the story until I fully am convinced. Often that never comes. Perhaps, this is one of the gifts of multiplicity because there is so much disagreement and sometimes debate and the ability to view each other’s thoughts while maintaining vastly different perspectives that this has given me the ability to hold space for other people’s opinions. I try to keep an open mind and even if I disagree with someone hold that our differences don’t have to mean that one of us is bad.

If you wish to continue the story in your own creative writing or prose you can answer the following questions for fiction to continue the story or answer the questions for prose that can be used as journal prompts, for essays, or poetry.

Prompts for Fiction

Write a story where someone is telling a lie

Use the same prompt as I did for this story and see where it takes you and write “A scene where one person is questioning if another is lying”

Continue the story from the daughter’s point of view

What actually happened that night?

Prompts for Prose

Write a poem about lying

Write about a time that you told a lie

Write about a time that you knew someone was lying but couldn’t prove it

Write about being accused of lying when you are telling the truth