Sometimes I Lie

by Alice Feeney

A lot of people would think I have a dream job, but nightmares are dreams too.

People are not mirrors—they don’t see you how you see yourself.

I will be okay, because I have to be. And because I always am.

I’ve always stayed within the lines when coloring in my life, but now I’m prepared to let things get a bit messy.

Mum says it is important to look your best, because even if people shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, they still do.

I don’t think my diary is going to be as interesting as Anne Frank’s. I’m not a very interesting person. Mrs. MacDonald says if we get stuck with what to write, we should just think of three honest things to say about ourselves.

Nana always said that books made better friends than people anyway. Books will take you anywhere if you let them,

We are all made of flesh and stars, but we all become dust in the end. Best to shine while you can.

The dead are not so very far away when you really need them; they’re just on the other side of an invisible wall. Grief is only ever yours and so is guilt. It’s not something you can share.

History is a mirror and we’re all just older versions of ourselves; children disguised as adults.

We are all just ghosts of the people we hoped that we were and counterfeit replicas of the people we wanted to be.

Little girls are different from little boys: they’re made of sugar and spice and scar for life.

I’ve still got my scars. Just because they’re on the inside doesn’t mean they’re not there.

Some people appear happy on the outside and you only know they’re broken inside if you listen as well as look.

People think that good and bad are opposites but they’re wrong, they’re just a mirror image of each other in broken glass.

I look back over at my niece and nephew and decide that I will always love these children the same, no matter what they do, no matter how they change, no matter who or what they grow into.