Emily Lies-a-lot

When I was in Primary school, I had a good friend named Emily. Our friendship began in
the spring, when I saw her riding a glittery pink bike through the forest. Emily had flowing
blonde hair with golden undertones, a sweet as honey voice and beautiful unblemished
porcelain skin. Emily was popular amongst the kids in our neighbourhood because of how
interesting her stories were, her father was an inventor and her mother a famed explorer;
they made millions of dollars and she owned all the latest technology; or at least that's what
Emily claimed. She and I became good friends quite quickly, we would hang out together
everyday and she was such a charming girl to be around. She would take my hand and say
“Rachel, one day we will live together with 55 cats and no boys” which sounded like a
delightful concept to me as a 12 year old.

Though one week whilst at the height of my friendship with Emily, people began drifting
away from her and whispering started through-out the school and our neighbourhood. Emily
was no longer 'Miss Popular' in fact people began to pick on her a lot. Emily never let me
stay at her house and I always wondered why, when I finally came over I realised she hadn't
been very truthful. Her house was a dump, the grass was brown and dying, the house was a
rundown shack with panels of wood hanging off it. Emily's mother was not a famed
explorer, in fact she described to me in great detail how she cleaned up some sick off the
floor during her work day as a janitor. Emily cringed as her mother told the story, tears
welling up in her big blue eyes. I looked around the house and found a picture of a man,
surrounded by other little frames of him smiling and playing.

“Who is that?” I asked Emily's mother, “Ah my husband Richie, he died when Emily was
just 5 years old” she explained. That's when I learned that her father was not an inventor, he
was in fact dead. I went to play up in Emily's room and that's where she broke down, going
on a tear-fuelled rage about how she was in an impostors house, that her mother had been
killed by the woman downstairs, and that she herself had been kidnapped from her
extravagant mansion. Although I did not believe my then best friend, I widened my eyes and
feigned shock. I told Emily that I believed her and how I was disgusted that she had been so
mistreated. She gave me a cheeky grin and hopped downstairs to the kitchen to where her
mother was making a snack. She was ever so friendly to this so-called impostor.

Back at school, Emily and I were complete outcasts. She had told people that she was a
supermodel, owned a jet-pack, knew Avril Lavigne personally, had a million dollars and
sailed the whole world. As her lies got bigger the less people believed her, and after Bobby
Hurslaw showed everyone the house she lived in, it was over for little Emily. She was no
longer the pretty popular girl, now my best friend Emily Lisalaw was known as; Emily Lies-
a-lot. We would sit alone together at lunch time as bullies would call out questions for
Emily “How big is your house?” and “do you know any other celebrities?” each time Emily
was asked a question, she would anxiously respond with a very blatant lie, causing everyone
to laugh uproariously at her. She would shake and cry, screaming that she wasn't lying
though no one believed her, not even me.
One day at the beginning of summer, I returned to school after a long break. Emily had not
returned to school with me despite her emails claiming she definitely would. I figured it was
just another lie and let it go. I didn't want to be uncool by association anymore so I began
trying to make new friends. I wasn't ugly during schooling, I was actually quite cute. I had
curly brown hair and golden tanned skin, big brown eyes and cute chubby cheeks. Boys
began crushing on me and girls took to being my friend easily. When Emily came back to
school a few weeks into the new term she looked different. Her hair was a fiery auburn and
cut to shoulder length, her skin was sun kissed from obvious hours sun-bathing. People
laughed at her under their breath and snickered to each other about her. Emily kept her head
down and skipped over to me, a huge smile plastered on her face. I retracted into myself as
she came closer.

I looked around at all of my new friends with their beautiful faces and popularity points
under their belts. 'Why should I give up all of this for one girl who lies all day?' I though to
myself, though selfish and misguided I was just a kid. Emily walked up to me and chimed a
happy “hello bestie! It's so good to see you again, I missed you!” The kids around me
laughed at her comment and all stared at me, awaiting my response. I looked at my best
friend in the eyes, blue and beautiful with hope. I screwed up my face and threw my gaze to
the floor, trying not to look at her. “Get away from me, I'm not your friend” I stuttered out.
Emily took a step back and giggled nervously “stop joking, bestie!” she said though her
voice wavered with sadness. “I said go away, Lies-a-lot!” I screamed, looking her dead in
the face. Emily's smile faded and her eyes drooped down, her lip began to quiver and her
body shook all over.

My friends laughed wildly and patted me on the back, applauding me for being cruel. Emily
nodded slowly and turned around, shuffling away from me with her head down. I swallowed
deeply and faked a smile as I walked off with my friends. The next day I was met with a
group of kids outside of our classroom, I pushed to the middle and found Emily sitting at the
bench with a smile plastered across her face. “What's going on?” I asked one of the little
girls near me “Emily's step dad is mega rich, look at her new watch!” she exclaimed,
pointing to the real gold watch latched around her dainty wrist. Emily smiled up at me and
flipped her hair “I'm practically a millionaire now! Making hundreds on pocket money” she
claimed, looking directly at me whilst addressing the group. I snickered and rolled my eyes
“whatever, Lies-a-lot” I mocked.

Emily scrunched up her face and walked toward me, pulling out a brand new flip phone
with a camera. She scrolled through her images folder and showed everyone pictures of her
standing in a luxury home and sunbathing by a big pool. Everyone gasped and crowded
around her to look at the phone and her numerous impressive pictures. I was pushed out of
the crowd and left to stand by myself as my friends gawked. That day I walked around with
my friends while they gushed about Emily and her sudden wealth. Though I had seen proof,
I still didn't buy it one little bit. How could her mother go from a single janitor to a
millionaire with a rich husband? It made no sense to me at all. The next day at school I came
back to people staring at me as I walked into class, whispers and giggling.
Emily was sat near the back of the class, smirking to herself as she eyed me directly. A girl
ran up to me and pushed me by the shoulder “is it true that your dad is in prison? You have a
murderer for a dad?” she exclaimed, very loudly. The class rang with laughter though Emily
hollered above them all. I furrowed my brow and glared at Emily “my father works in an
office, he's not in prison! Emily is a liar why do you all believe her!” I screamed at the class.
Emily shook her head and rolled her eyes “she's so ashamed of it that she's lying and
blaming me, probably because her father is on death row” she chuckled, the rest of the class
joining in. I felt so small in that moment because I was the only person who knew the truth,
the class decided to believe a famed liar over me, just because she was suddenly rich.

I went home that day in tears and fell onto my bed, my father came in and asked me if I was
okay “Emily is lying about me dad, she's saying you're in prison. Now my friends hate me”
I sobbed. My dad frowned and placed his hand on my back “what if I was in prison? And
your friends were making fun of something true. Sad and true. They don't sound like friends
to me” my dad replied, rubbing a loving hand over my back. I looked down at my feet and
gave him a defeated sigh, although I enjoyed being liked by people, it was very obvious that
he was right. I gave my dad a hug and went to school the next day with a new-found
confidence, I happily skipped around the school without a care in the world. People would
call things out to me like “your dad is a murderer!” and “Jailbird family!” but I didn't care
what they said, if they were worth my time they wouldn't mind at all.

During lunch time a mousy girl with short brown hair walked up to me and introduced
herself as Lucinda. I greeted her warmly and she explained how her father was in jail “don't
let them get you down, it's not your fault he's in jail” she reassured me. I awkwardly
explained to her that my father was not in jail, saying that Emily had lied about the whole
thing. The girl went bright red and turned to walk away, I stopped her and said that I didn't
care what situation her father was in. We became friends after that encounter and would
hang out all of the time; going to sleepovers and telling each other secrets, hanging out
during lunch and recess whilst Emily stared at us from afar. Soon Lucinda was my new best
friend and this wasn't a secret to anyone. It absolutely infuriated Emily as she wove more
stories about Myself, even turning on Lucinda and telling everyone her father was in prison.

One evening I was walking home from school and passed Emily's former rundown house,
the lights were all turned off save for a single pulsating red light coming from her former
bedroom. I stepped forward and squinted up into the window, trying to work out what the
light was exactly. After a few moments of stepping closer to the house I saw a shadow begin
to take form against the wall of the bedroom. The shadow grew bigger in the dim red cast,
swallowing every trace of light inside of the room. I shook in fear though I didn't avert my
eyes or run away from the house, a head began to slowly creep up into view inside the
window. Emily slowly peeked out of the window to look down on me from the bedroom.
the way she looked was not normal, sending a deep chill down my spine as she took form.
Her hair was matted and thick with knots, her skin was paler than it had ever been before
she got a tan. Her eyes bulged unnaturally from the hollow, darkened sockets on her face.
Her mouth was upturned into a chilling grin which encompassed almost her entire face. A
string of drool hung down from her mouth and she swayed from side to side whilst looking
at me. I shivered deeply and took a step back from the house, Emily's smile washed away
and she looked down at me with a look of complete anger. She began to loudly snarl, baring
her teeth for me to gaze upon as she bashed her hands against the window and furiously
screamed at me in a guttural, deep voice. I turned on my heels and began to run down the
street and directly for my house. I heard a door click behind me and looked back to see
Emily running after me on all fours, foaming at the mouth and screaming “LIAR! LIAR!
LYING BITCH!” I screamed like a crazy person and got to my house as Emily was only a
few feet away.

I slammed the door shut and locked it tightly, pulling the latch across and falling to the floor
as tears began to run down my face. My mother came from around the corner and looked
down at me, running over and asking what had happened, though I didn't know how to
explain. The next day at school I saw Emily and cringed in fright, however she looked
normal again and didn't seem to react when she noticed me. For a few weeks I avoided
walking by the house she lived in and tried to steer clear of Emily during school hours. Near
the end of that school year it had come to light in the newspaper that Emily's mother had
been caught stealing thousands of dollars worth of jewellery and merchandise, she had also
been going to hotels around the city and leaving without paying. When the story broke;
Emily's entire stint of popularity came crashing down in flames. and to make it even worse
for her I had brought my dad to parents day.

Emily Lisalaw was Emily Lies-a-lot again, and though I rejected my former group of friends
offer to be friends again, I did eventually make another friend. I invited Emily over to my
house and apologised for saying she wasn't my friend; she shrugged her shoulders and said
“I'm sorry I thought your dad was in prison, I must have an unreliable source” though I
knew that was another lie, I still offered her friendship since I missed her a lot. We had a
sleepover one night with Lucinda and woke the next day to find my mousy little friend with
a broken neck and a bite taken out of her arm. I cried for weeks on end after attending
Lucinda's funeral, my parents were questioned and detained since they were the only adults
present during the night of her death. After a while the police had realised the bites were
consistent with that of a child and my parents were let go. For the rest of the year Emily and
I were questioned.

I told the truth about being Lucinda's best friend, whilst Emily Lies-a-lot fabricated a tale
about me inviting Lucinda over to torment her because we were enemies, that she and
Lucinda were like sisters. I immediately regretted trying to be that bitches friend again. For
weeks I was getting ready for trial under a watchful eye as Emily skipped around telling
everyone that I was a murderer and she had heard Lucinda cry as I broke her neck. Since it
was murder, I was to be tried as an adult. they gathered evidence for and against me, set up
court dates and eventually found my fingerprints on Lucinda's Pyjamas. My parents cried as
our lawyer told them I'd likely be in Juvi and then Prison for life. I shook wildly as
Lucinda's mother spat at me before court. Lucinda was my best friend and now she's dead,
and I was being blamed.
Fortunately a break through had been made in the case, an impression of my teeth was made
and compared to the bite on Lucinda; it came back that the teeth sets were not the same at
all. Emily was questioned again and they had finally asked some kids at my school, they
confirmed that I had been best friends with Lucinda and that Emily barely knew her. Emily
was put on trial while sobbing and screaming that she hadn't done it, I was let go and
finished the school year without trouble. Lucinda's mother came to my house and
shamefully apologised to me, I cried with her about how badly we missed Lucy. Everything
seemed okay until one fateful night before Emily's trial. I had been in bed sleeping when I
opened my eyes and saw Emily hovering outside my window. She was smiling wickedly
again, her face pale and her eyes bulging. She cackled loudly and began to bang her arms
against my window.

I screamed though no one came to my rescue, my parents had been out to dinner that night
and my babysitter was passed out drunk on the sofa downstairs. I stood up from my bed and
walked over to the window “Emily?” I asked. The girl cocked her head to the side and
chuckled “I could have been more” the creature growled through the window. I stepped
back and backed up into the wall as she pried at the window with gaunt hands. I flicked on
my lightswitch and she hissed loudly, floating out of site and away from my house. I
thought that was the end of my troubles with Emily Lies-a-lot but I was wrong. I heard
rustling downstairs which was followed by a scream from my babysitter. I locked my door
as footsteps pounded up the stairs to my room. Emily burst into my room with her jaw
unhinged and skin pale as milk, her eyes bulging with rage. “Lying is such a destructive
habbit” she whispered, lunging on top of me and pressing her lips against mine.

I moaned into her mouth and attempted to push her off me but she was abnormally strong.
She pulled away and I began to feel my body twitch and shake, she led me to the living
room where my babysitter had been crawling to the door with two broken legs. I smiled
down at her and moved forward, unable to stop myself.

I'm writing this letter from roughwood Correctional Facility where I am serving my
sentence for the murder of my babysitter, Carla Hunter. I share my cell with a dark presence
that lingers near me constantly, it does not own a face or a body; though it does own me. It
will slip into me at times and make me lie, steal, hurt people. Sometimes I'll see Emily
around the facility with her face void of any emotion, a similar dark figure trailing behind
her as she walks around. My parents no longer visit me and my 'friends' from school have
written numerous autobiographies about their time in school with me. “my friend was the
devil” and “Lunch time with a murderer” are just two of the book titles. I was diagnosed
with Paranoid Schizophrenia and Compulsive lying disorder last Tuesday. I'm to be
transferred to Lexing Psychiatric Hospital tomorrow.

Thank you for hearing my side of the story, Mr Cuningham. I'm sure your readers will love
to read my story and call me crazy. Make sure you don't befriend any liars this year or you
might just kill a babysitter.

- Rachel Grenton.