Lies

 Lies

I’m not a big fan of myself lying, not to say I haven’t lied or that I don’t lie every now and then (though I do my best to avoid being put in situations where I need to lie), and I’m fine with other people lying because I know that sometimes it’s just the best and easiest option (and yes, sometimes lying is the best option, despite some people’s opinions). There are a number of smaller reasons for this, but there is one big reason that stems from Him (for those of you who don’t know who He is, here is a link to another story starting with the details on that however that story does talk about a girl who committed suicide so you may not want to read the whole thing https://zanevi4.blogspot.com/2020/03/ill-never-forget-her.html). Now, this is not a pretty story but it does involve graphic and horrific violence and death, so if you want to avoid reading that now would be a good time to click away from this, to everyone who continues on I’m sorry but this will likely be difficult to read.

            The first memory involved two friends who were inseparable and We spent months studying them, learning what they liked, what they did, where they went in their free time, and what each one was striving to succeed in. Once We learned this He had decided he wanted to turn them against each other, to turn best friends into enemies.

We spent weeks setting things up, getting ready to sabotage one of the friends at an important tryout and frame the other friend for it. It worked, and the once best friends turned on each other, becoming bitter rivals in everything they did. They spent a year at each other’s throats before someone finally found out that they were tricked, though they never found out We had caused it.

            This is where things start to get really dark so this is your last chance to stop reading. The second memory is a little bit simpler, but much worse. We were walking home on day, and we heard a woman weakly calling out for help from the side of the road. We looked over and whoever she was she was badly hurt, it looked like she had been beaten and left to die, and she definitely wasn’t going to make it through the night without help. He left her there, alone, on the side of the road, while she begged Us for help. She was never on the news, and the next day her body wasn’t there, but there was plenty of blood where she had been, too much blood for anyone to have lived.

            The third, and final memory I’ll be talking about, is much worse than the others so I’ll try to make it as quick as possible. We was walking through a town and found a homeless man. He was just laying there, asleep, and He walked over and just started beating him, for no reason. It was brutal, merciless, and unrelenting. I vividly remember every second of it, the feel of bone breaking beneath Our fists, the spray of warm blood on Our skin, the brief moments the man had to cry out before he was gone, and how He felt nothing while doing it.

            I’m sure you’re wondering what the point is here, how are these related to why I don’t like lying. It’s because all those memories I just shared with you have one thing in common, they’re not real. These memories were fabricated by Him, a “final gift” before He died. He left me dozens of false memories, all varying in their level of cruelty and horror but all memories I could tell were clearly false. He also left memories that I’m not sure about, ones that could be either real or false, and then there’s also the chance he left memories that I think are real but aren’t.

            I’ve done my best to fact check my memories using online newspapers, reports, local stories, but there’s always the chance I’ve missed something, there’s years of memories after all. I can’t say with 100% certainty why He left these memories in my head, I think it’s because He knew He was dying and He thought that these memories would make me stronger since I would be all that was left of Him. Whatever the reason is I’m left with these terrible memories, half of them are what makes up the nightmares I occasionally have.

            I share this because it’s part of my story and I think it needs to be told and it shows more what He was like. I doubt that many people will find anything in this they can relate to or anything that can help them in their daily life. I doubt that many people will even make it to this point, and to those who have thank you for reading, I know it probably wasn’t an easy read and I hope the rest of your day is wonderful and bright.