The Reality Of Me

• Thomas Kong, Grade 12, Salisbury High School
• Short Story
• 2016

Excellence Award in the 'Top Secret 2016' competition

If there's one thing I've learned about human nature, it's that we're all intrinsically liars by heart.

Everything about our beings is a constant deception of who we really are. In the frantic rush-hour of the late afternoon, I notice all the little details. Businessmen in their lavishly rich suit-and-tie hurry to catch the last bus home from work. Girls prance around in tight clothing that accentuate the curves of their body, face painted with layers upon layers of powder and cosmetic that conceal their true face from view. Groups of teenagers loiter aimlessly, happy and carefree in their outward expression, but are unable to conceal the hollowness of their eyes and the crude scarring across their wrists. Yes, society lies to itself, but for what cause, what purpose?

Do the fancy men in the suits boast of success and material possessions, only to silently return to a cramped suburban apartment at the day's end? Do these girls fear that if people gaze beyond their masks of makeup, that they'll find only an insecure shell beneath, desperate for love? And why do our youth feign happiness, laughing at every joke but internally falling apart?

The only thing that we really gain from such empty lies is the simulation of a successful and desirable outward appearance. We are so wrongly consumed by the need to appease others, that we forget to address our own needs, dreams and aspirations. For then, we are only living a lie.

Now hear me out, I have never claimed to be a saint myself. I will lie to save myself; this is something that I will admit to. But to me those little lies are merely a survival instinct; a simple act of self-preservation. It's the one persistent habit that I just can't shake. But one thing I will never do is lie to myself. I understand my strengths and my weaknesses and I know who I really am. I have nothing to hide; I am not ashamed of myself.

"You, boy! What are you doing there, skulking about?"

Ah, Headmaster Dowd, devout Catholic, and frequenter of that backwater brothel off Main Street. What a delightful man.

I greeted him curtly, and he continued to stare, disapproval etched into his features.

"You're the one failing almost every class. Care to explain?"

My gaze washed over him. He seemed mildly irritated, as if he were communing with a housefly. His golden watch, gleaming in the afternoon sun, ticked away the seconds that he clearly didn't want to spend here.

I locked eyes with him, then relaxed and walked right past him without another word, giving him a solid nudge on the shoulder on the way past. Dowd seemed visibly shocked, demanding for me to return this very instant. I afforded a chuckle, twirling a glittering new timepiece around my finger. Why the deception there, you ask? There is no lie; this is who I am, what I do, and I damned good at it.