Cat Valentine:
The World's Greatest Liar
Hi, I'm Catarina Valentine. I'm seventeen years old, and I'm the world's greatest liar. It's a silly title, but it's true. That's my best talent; telling lies. It's not like I'm proud of it, and I don't hurt or cheat people with it. The thing is, I make everyone think I'm happy, innocent, loved and in love with the world. None of that is true, though. I mean, I love my friends, my family...but I know it's a bad world. :(
I started telling lies in kindergarten (which is kind of bad, because that's like the main rule you have to follow at that age). I didn't do it to be bad...I actually did it to be a better person. It didn't work. When Mrs. Williams asked me how my weekend was, I smiled my cute little innocent smile, gently shook my pigtails back and forth, and lied, my eyes planted to the colorful blue carpet. "It was really fun," I lied. "My mommy and I played games, and she showed me how to put my hair in pigtails, and she sang me a song to help me fall asleep one night. Yeah, it was a really good weekend." Every single thing I said was a lie; Mom was gone most of the time, so I had to play checkers and Monopoly all by myself. I saw one of my friends putting her hair in pigtails, and I learned how by watching her. Finally, I couldn't fall asleep; that was happening alot at that time, so I started singing lullabies and nursery rhymes to myself. Now I do that every night I want to sleep. :,(
A couple of weeks later, I told another big lie; one of the mean boys pushed me and took my toy car; it was a pink Barbie Mobile that I got for my fourth birthday. When my teacher asked me how I got a cut on my knee, and why I was crying, I stared at the wound, and said I fell down and lost my favorite toy. She held me, kissed my boo boo, and told me she and some of the aids would find it, but I knew they never would. Then, on the last day of school, my friends asked me how I felt, if I was looking forward to summer. I told them how happy I was (or how I wished I could be), how much fun I wasn't going to have (and I told the story so it sounded like I had the whole world coming to me for free), and that I wasn't heartbroken about leaving the only people who care about me. That night, I cried alone, singing "You Are my Sunshine" over and over. Every time the song didn't put me to sleep, I cried, then I rolled over, closed my eyes, and started lying to myself. I'm going to be happy...Mommy's going to love me, play with me, like me. I'm going to sleep tonight, I'm going to have a nice summer, and I'm going to see my friends. Hot, burning tears filled my little eyes, and stuck to my pillow.
I sing alot. I sing because it helps me forget I'm alone. I've gotten pretty good at it, and I think that's why I got in to Hollywood Arts. I like it there; I have alot of friends, we have fun, and I got the nickname "Cat" because my name is Catarina, because I love cats, and because of a face I make when I yawn (I look like a kitten, they say). Jade's my best buddy, and when she's not around, Tori is. We love each other, but Tori and Jade fight alot. I tell them it doesn't bother me; that people fight sometimes. I hold back tears when I say that. During lunch, I go into the girl's bathroom all alone, close myself in a stall, put my hair in pigtails, and say my mom insisted on doing it, even though I've outgrown that kind of stuff. When I get home, I cry over that. The school always asks me if I'm having problems at home, and I always lie to them; "No," I happily answer, acting like their concerns were out of the blue. Then, I smile and giggle about something else.
Jade asked me if something was wrong. I said I was fine, that I was having fun. This made me cry..because now, I can lie to my friends and family while looking them right in the eye. Jade hugs me, tells me she loves me like a sister, and that, deep down, she knows the truth. I tell her I'm fine again, but she doesn't say anything; just smiles and hugs me. Tori came up to me, said I seem upset, and that she's worried about me, and then asked if I was okay. I lie to her, saying my allergies are acting up; I'm not crying. Everyone thinks I'm a ditzy, happy-go-lucky little sweetheart who never outgrew her infantile ways. I think I like it better that way. Lying hurts, but I keep doing it.
When I lie, my Mommy's sweet, nice, caring, and gentle with me. When I lie, I have a happy life, and I'm a happy little girl. When I lie, people think happy thoughts about me. When I lie...life's not the horrible little thing it really is.