inveterate liar. this is how my parents would describe me throughout my childhood.
and it was true. i would lie and lie and lie. and spin stories and intricate webs. and then i would believe them myself so much that i would lie without missing a beat. where have you been? at my friends'. where did you spend your holiday? in brazil, surfing. what did you do with him? i can't remember. did you hit your brother? no.
now, though, i have to write a fictional story about myself and i can't for my life think of anything to write about. maybe because who would believe any of it anyway?
I was probably around seven, when we had a costume day at school. I went, dressed up as an Asian girl. My mom did my make-up, eyes the shape of an almond. Returning from school, still in my make-up and costume, I met with children from the neighbourhood and made up a fancy tale of being my own long lost identical twin from China...
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