I Should Have Lied...

• Shevaun Rutherford, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2013

I should have lied. I shouldn’t have told them. But I have, and now I have to go through with it.
The sound of rumbling filled my ears as I neared the Ire Falls. I pressed pass into the clearing, pushing away branches from my face, my legs scratching on the bushes, my arms on the twigs. Here will be a good place to stop.
The Ire Falls were a blessing to my weary eyes. I sat myself down beside the cliff, letting my legs dangle off the edge, the spray from the cascading water sending shivers up my spine.
The view is beautiful.
I peel off my hiker’s backpack; take out my water bottle to drink and, without thinking, the photograph of Mother, of the house, of what I had left behind. I stare into the pictured eyes of my mother for a second.
I get up and turn back, to the path I had just came from. Perhaps they haven’t found the note yet.