Grim Truth

It was a world different from the one we live in now, or we might someday come to, where consequences of one’s lies and deceit were measured on the tiny book called Pselmatin that would follow you to till the end of time. The unspoken rule was that when a hundred lies were marked on your Pselmatin, it would complete the creation of a monster from the grim world of Gomorriah who would ultimately find you and eat you whole. Roman was no exception to the rule, but he considered himself too smart to exceed his lies over one hundred. In his youth, his family poorer than his attitude, worked hard to the bone, living honest and weak lives but for the deceptive boy, he only wanted to live on the contrary. So he lied, lied about the flourishing notes in his pocket, about the grain in his rice basket, about the linen of his shirt.

His tireless father would warn him, “If you keep this up, not even your tiny little truths can save you from the monster, and the real you will be no more.”

However, he would scoff, “If I were you father, I would never want to find the real me.”

Years passed, and he grew up to be a vivacious and handsome lawman practicing the art of fabrication and shine, his beauty that was as perfect as his lies made him the best at his job. By this time, he had found various loopholes to save his lies and live vivaciously till he bore all the riches and fruits in the world, mostly through the charm and power he held over his words. His friend Bo, no different and more reckless, pressed on the same plan. As they both checked the number of strikes in their Pselmatins, they would triumph that it was all under control. But no matter, as an inevitable fate would have over such flawed humans, Bo had somehow hit the strike over hundred lies and he awaited the first fleeting hours, where the absent sign of an ineffable monster gave way to his turbulent sighs. Another set of days passed where there was still no appearance, and his heart filled with hope convinced it was a fluke after all.

But as fate would have it, there came a day when the monster did come. Except it did not look anything like a dark devious monster but a spitting image of Bo himself and the trembling man crouched in fear to his successor, whose mouth grew large and swallowed the whole of him, his last cries hung like smoke in the air that seeped away into the vents and other quiet places.

That night, Roman woke up abruptly unable to shake off an ominous feeling, he counted his lies again and ensured he was still many lies away from the impending doom.

As he lived his days ahead he witnessed a very different Bo, frivolous and dark in all his movements; and from that, he knew his friend’s soul had succumbed to the fate they both secretly feared. He knew every word that came from this man, was a lie that he wanted to believe so he found himself growing silent and tenacious, unwanting the same doom upon him. From time to time, he felt a yearn to look into Bo’s eyes and see if his friend was in there somehow, but he couldn’t pull himself to. But even a stringent human can’t avoid the fate of overlooking his mistakes and Roman learned it was his time soon, from the moment his book shook in his pocket and it revealed he had crossed over one hundred lies. Numerous attempts were made, following tearing of pages in his book of lies, throwing the book into the sea, and even erasing the hundredth strike, but it was all in vain since the unsullied book always found its way back to him. So he waited and decided to hide in the confines of his wealthy home, preparing weapons and reading up on the rules over and over being a lawman hoping to find a way out from his miserable fate.

Few days had passed and there was no shadow apart from his own at the house, but he still waited fervently. Few weeks had passed, and the absence of the intervention made him wonder if he imagined it all. Murmurs of conviction escaped his mouth as he wandered and stared across the dazzling moon amongst the hurriedly floating sky, It must be a hoax then, he thought as slumber filled his mind and he lay rested. But in the early morning, it came, before the moon was to transpire, it waited at the foot of his bed. With the brush of the wind against his skin, he rose and met his lookalike, more handsome with glittering white teeth revealed at its snare, ready to feast upon him. As the figure took its step towards him, step by step, Roman inched back into the walls and begged, “Please don’t feast on me! I’ll do anything.”

The figure’s sardonic laugh echoed across the sky, “It’s done, human. You asked for this fate.”

And in the contemplative moment, Roman remembered what he learned about the grim world, not of his own.

“You can live in this world instead of me, and let me go to yours.” He cried.

The figure paused, his smile dropped, “You are willing to go to my world just to save your soul? I am simply a better version of your deceitful self. If you really wanted to keep your soul, you should have spoken some truth in your life.”

“Please, give me a chance. I willingly give my place in this world to you.”, nothing scared Roman more than the monster’s watering mouth at this point.

The creature clasped his hand and closed his eyes in thought, “And you will stay there and never come back?”

“Yes, I have no choice.” He stood straight.

His monstrous twin held then sneered, “This will be interesting. As you desire then.”

The moonlight that stayed embellished in the clouds revealed itself and all the light and dark surrounded him and before he knew it, he stood beside a well that faced a dark red forest. He looked below and saw a furry tail on the barren ground and saw it lead to his back. In fear, he turned around and saw his exchange was done and his reflection from the well frightened him. The reflection revealed to have a long black snout, red fur coat, and an incredibly long blue-tipped tail that wrapped around his feet.

His pointy ears shook as he heard a shudder behind him, causing him to yell and run into the forest with the eyes on the forest leaves following his trail. A raging storm danced above him and the wind chased him further into the center when he saw a small town filled with figures that roamed and howled in the night. The town presented many creatures that confused Roman as they appeared to be features that were part human as well an animal of many kinds; Gommorans! He guessed; for some creatures, the appearance seemed to be in a continuous cycle where the human features diminished and then grew back. His belly ached as loaves of bread and honey nectar were presented in shops, but none gave him any as he asked. But instead, they were surprised at his appearance.

 A rabbit with the eyes and ears of a woman stared at him inquisitively, “Why do you look like that?”

“Like what?” He held his breath

“You’re a fully formed Fox with no human features. That’s odd.”

Roman knew why.

Afraid of being asked more questions he puffed his chest and planned to charm his way but what came out of his mouth surprised him, “Well it’s even odd you’ve got human ears that are so despiteful to look at. Where are your bunny ears?”. He ran out back into the forest once the cross creature chased him away. Another creature who possessed shelter had asked what he thought of his dream to dance despite having duck feet, Roman’s words knew no bounds other than the truth. Grim truth, one might say.

 Each truth he spoke made his heart clench in pain and he wondered that for some reason, the gift of lies he grew years on, did not find its place here despite this world being ever ready to welcome it. He wasn’t quite sure what it was; he was convinced the monster had cursed him of some kind, where he could no longer speak lies and only the truth. That has to be it, He decided.

So it became difficult to survive in the hazardous world, where no one listened to his truth or accepted his company cause he spoke only the truth. He was convinced that he was right all along to live vivaciously through his lies because honesty was never benefiting one. Each day, he got a beating to his chest and a slash across his face as one would laugh, calling him the fox who can't lie. While he scampered around for loaves, his outfit would tear from branches that teased and when a conceited apple branch would ask for compliments in return of an apple, he would reply with his voice struggling, “My O-Oh My You are indeed the prettie-pettiest branch of all.” and then he would close his eyes to not want to face the thwack coming his way from the grim hands. He would cry out loud on his way home, feeling ashamed and exposed to his true thoughts, his large tail circling his face.

One day as he managed to get nectar from the bees who were easier to please, he held his pot close to his chest and skipped home to make sure he didn't bump into the headless grizzlies or the armless monkeys. He found a shade and came across a Gomorran that was almost a full skunk who saw his glass and begged, “Oh Fox with the glass of sweet nectar from the bees, I beg you to give me a drink!” cried the skunk.

Roman denied her cries and went into his straw hut that stood still for once and poured the deliciously sweet honey into his cup but as he put the cup to his tongue he felt a shuffle behind him, revealing the same begging eyes and crooked teeth yearning for a drink. It was the first time he saw any weakness in this world and he gave her the cup declaring it to be the last time. The skunk took off in glee and Roman did not feel as empty as his grumbling stomach did.

Days passed and he came across a cross-eyed wolf creature who deviously asked him questions which he knew asked for a beating. As his unfortunate tongue would bring Roman doom, the wolf prepared to assail and a cloud of green mist rained causing the wolf to yelp and run away from the stinking air. Thankful for her intervention, the two soon become each other’s comrades but the skunk never asked him to speak the truth about herself, and Roman in turn, never asked why she did not have any other friends.

But one day, the skunk gathered up her courage and asked him what he thought of her. Roman feared what would escape his grim heart and the words flew faster than the lightning that would hit Gomorriah every hour,” You-You have the worst scent I have ever come across. Worse enough to make me feel that I might pass out every time I sit beside you.”

Hurt from his words the skunk ran off and Roman cried and bit his tongue in despair. He searched many moons to look for his tiny friend but there was no sign. He cried to the moon one night wishing if he just had one more chance to speak his heart and as if his wish was granted, his friend presented herself.

“My dear friend,” he held his hand to his chest, “You might have the stinkiest scent in this land, but that is your weapon. Your kindness is no match for a horrible friend like myself.

But I am willing to bear all the green mist in the world just be next to you.”

Touched, the skunk came closer and they embraced. And for once Roman felt what it was like to be happily honest. And as the moon paled into the clouds he felt his figure pale and transparent.” What is happening?” he looked at his body in surprise.

The skunk prophesized in a sardonic tone, “It seems you have spoken enough truths to go back to your world.” Roman couldn’t believe it and held tighter to his friend. “I don’t know if that world will accept me anymore.”

The skunk smiled and held his hand, “As long as you are ready to be a good soul, your truths will be fruitful. Don’t lie vivaciously anymore and take courage to accept your weakness you silly fox”

And that was the best truth he had ever received in all his life. The moonbeam kissed all of him and he was surrounded by all light and dark; before he knew it, he was standing on the floor of his home and his shadow painted a man he once knew. He felt something shake in his pocket and looked at the tiny book of Pselmatin and saw it was empty of strikes. Trodding lightly he looked around and saw his first sunlight in what must have been a long time.

He held his chest and knew that although his heart went through the pain it also grew stronger.

By abandoning the ways of lying that came so easily to him, he decided to rather live an honest and difficult life and love his true soul. What one might forget is that when we lie, apart from hurting others, we are hurting ourselves the most on the inside and that was something he vowed to never do.