PSLE: Lying

Bang! Bang! Steven shot his enemies in cold blood. He was in a war! A game of real-life counterstrike but with Nerf guns. “Ha! Ha! Ha! You are dead!” he laughed, pointing at his opponent who had to feign death after being shot. 

Michael watched his neighbours play enthusiastically but he was not part of it. He had no Nerf gun and could not join in. Feeling green with envy, he was eyeing the spare Nerf gun that was lying on the ground. In that instant, the devil started playing havoc in his mind. “Take it, Michael! No one will know!” Michael tried to snap out of it but he could not and finally succumb to temptation. Darting his eyes from side to side, he made sure that the coast was clear. Finally, it was time to strike. Quick as a flash, he moved in, took the Nerf gun and ran hell for leather. 

Unknown to him, he did not realise that Dad happened to come home early that day and witnessed the entire incident. When Dad reached home, he found Michael sitting on the sofa, stroking the gun tenderly, feeling pleased with himself. Finally, he had a Nerf gun all to himself! 

Fury immediately charged through Dad’s veins at the sight. He stomped towards Michael and bellowed, “Whose is this?”

The lad’s face immediately turned ashen-white. What should he say? He could not tell his dad the truth, could he? “Hmm… It…it’s… Steven. He has… lent… it to me… I swear,” Michael stammered. 

“Really?” Dad asked.

“Are you sure?” Dad asked again. He could not believe that Michael was lying. How could he accept such atrocious, unacceptable behaviour? He clenched his knuckles white in rage. “Okay, let’s call Steven now,” came his stern reply.

Oh no! Michael froze like a Roman statue. He knew he was in hot soup. He saw his father was about to call Steven’s dad. His plot would be exposed in seconds. He swallowed the stone in his throat. By now, his dad was like a seething dragon, glaring at him with bloodshot eyes as his nostrils flared and his mouth quivered.

“Dad… I stole it… from Steven,” Michael muttered with his head hung low. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to …”

Before Michael could even finish his sentence, he felt a painful sting on his buttocks. Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! His father was inflicting harsh blows with a feather duster on him. Every stroke ravaged his skin mercilessly as if he were a circus animal. Michael was pleading earnestly for mercy as his hands tried to shield himself from more blows.

After what had seemed like eternity, Dad finally stopped. He sat on the sofa speechless. Hot tears brimmed in his eyes. “Daddy, I am sorry! I am wrong!” Michael spoke softly in between sobs, pleading for forgiveness. “I will never do it again, I promise,” he continued, tears falling like two silvery rivulets. Dad patted his head gently and flashed a relieved grin. 

The boy was true to his word and returned the Nerf gun to the rightful owner. He has really learnt his lesson well. He has never stolen since then. Time has healed the bruises on his buttocks and this incident would forever be engraved in his memory forever - it never pays to steal or tell a lie.