Secrets and Lies

Click. The doorknob turned. I held my breath. The door creaked open. Light flooded the room. My heart was beating so loudly I’m sure they could hear it. My nose started to tickle. I tried to hold it back. But it was too late. AA-AA-CHOOO! I sneezed. It echoed through the halls. They froze. I froze. My only chance was to run out the door. Except that they were blocking the doorway. Finally they started walking…towards me. Uh-oh, I thought to myself. I was about to lose my balance, so I grasped a handle to keep myself from falling. Suddenly the ground opened up beneath them. I gasped. A trap door, barely visible, shut them in. I sat there for a few seconds in silence. Then I jumped down and ran as fast as I could.
My name is Georgia. You are probably wondering what that was all about. Of course you are. Well, I guess I’ll start at the beginning, a logical place to start.
It was an ordinary day. Or so I thought. The sun was shining through the clouds. While I was walking to school that morning, I sighed. It was pleasant to have the sun finally melt away the snow. The halls of the school were bustling with activity. I slinked through the crowds almost unseen. Then came Rebecca. She was my best friend in Bridgewood High School. She was also my only friend, but I didn’t mind. Together we walked to class. We had a substitute teacher whose name was Professor Collins. He was a mysterious sort of man. His suits were always navy blue. He looked tired and worrisome. That was all anyone knew about him. He spoke in a quiet voice almost a whisper. It sent a chill down my spine. “Today,” he said quietly, “we will talk about the past. It is not the same past that you have all have learned. You’ve learned lies all of your life. He pauses letting it sink in. Surely our other teachers wouldn’t lie. I had always learned that lying was wrong. Then why did they do it? Was Professor Collins lying himself? I wondered to myself. Looking around the room I noticed that everyone was just as confused as I was. “Let me explain.” The professor’s voice broke the silence, startling us. “The truth was harsh. No one wanted sorrow, so the president told you little fibs, which eventually grew bigger, one at a time to save you from this sadness.” He paused. Rebecca raised her hand. “Yes?” he asked. “Why is it bad that they don’t want us to be sorrowful?” she asked. “That’s a good question,” he replied. “And for you to understand the answer you must discover the reality. That is why I am here, to teach you the reality. There was a group called the Black Thorn. They are part of the reason for your sorrow. And the secrets. It is because-“ he was interrupted by the door opening.