Personal Narrative: Speckled Tongues
Speckled Tongues
When I was five years old, my family had a magical talent. They knew exactly when I was lying, and after getting caught countless times, I learned that telling the whole truth was a lot easier than being put on the spot. I could never comprehend how my mom perpetually looked through my fibs.
The drill was simple, and included the presence of my older brother and parents. I would take a seat on the middle cushion of our leathery sofa, with my brother on my left, my father on my right, and my mom positioned directly in front of me on her favorite hickory chair. Then, she would calmly ask me to stick my tongue out. Perhaps out of fear or confusion, I always listened and proceeded to expose my tongue to the particles of cruelty
that lingered around our quiet living room. As if I were some extinct species of slugs, all three of my family members stared at my mouth’s open portal in amazement for a couple of minutes.
According to them, when a person lies, black dots quickly appear on their tongue, visible to everyone around them, but not themselves, As gullible as I was, this trick had me fooled for several years. When I finally realized that there were no black dots and that it was just my guilty conscience forcing me to tell the truth, I felt betrayed. I knew it was all in good fun, but a part of me became less trusting towards the people around me after being ridiculed for so long.
My family didn’t seem to understand how sensitive I was to constant jokes and being the punching bag to pick on. I had always been observant, and I slowly learned that pretending not to be affected was the best thing to do. I went along with everybody’s teasing and fun, while putting on fake smiles and laughter. But the thing no one ever noticed was that I was starting to destroy myself just to make others happy. I was a joyous little girl in the eyes of the outside world, but beneath that artificial shell was an aching heart just waiting to be set free. Nothing could expose the truth any longer. No one could imagine my lies, not even with speckled tongues.
When I was five years old, my family had a magical talent. They knew exactly when I was lying, and after getting caught countless times, I learned that telling the whole truth was a lot easier than being put on the spot. I could never comprehend how my mom perpetually looked through my fibs.
The drill was simple, and included the presence of my older brother and parents. I would take a seat on the middle cushion of our leathery sofa, with my brother on my left, my father on my right, and my mom positioned directly in front of me on her favorite hickory chair. Then, she would calmly ask me to stick my tongue out. Perhaps out of fear or confusion, I always listened and proceeded to expose my tongue to the particles of cruelty
that lingered around our quiet living room. As if I were some extinct species of slugs, all three of my family members stared at my mouth’s open portal in amazement for a couple of minutes.
According to them, when a person lies, black dots quickly appear on their tongue, visible to everyone around them, but not themselves, As gullible as I was, this trick had me fooled for several years. When I finally realized that there were no black dots and that it was just my guilty conscience forcing me to tell the truth, I felt betrayed. I knew it was all in good fun, but a part of me became less trusting towards the people around me after being ridiculed for so long.
My family didn’t seem to understand how sensitive I was to constant jokes and being the punching bag to pick on. I had always been observant, and I slowly learned that pretending not to be affected was the best thing to do. I went along with everybody’s teasing and fun, while putting on fake smiles and laughter. But the thing no one ever noticed was that I was starting to destroy myself just to make others happy. I was a joyous little girl in the eyes of the outside world, but beneath that artificial shell was an aching heart just waiting to be set free. Nothing could expose the truth any longer. No one could imagine my lies, not even with speckled tongues.