My sister will not eat seafood. She is a brown-haired, brown-eyed girl, all inherited from my mother, and she is picky, an inheritance from no one. Or perhaps a suspicious ancestor—maybe the caveman who ate the poisoned mushroom?

We (the boys) are wide, sandy, blue-eyed beasts. We'll eat anything, be it a bagel or small dog. It's that cavalier attitude Mom rewarded with meals that stretched the definition of food. She was not the best cook, and sometimes pizza would be recast as "lumps," or toast as "carcinogens with a side of yeast." Nor was she the most honest about ingredients. She wanted us to eat, after all.

So, Sis found herself in a constant state of seafood consumption. She'd eat tacos and realize afterward: "These were fish tacos!" She'd eat red beans and rice to discover soggy shrimp.

My poor sister. She's had more sushi than a sushi chef.

She was too honest for her own good. “When you were out of town last night, I had a fling with another man. I am so sorry!”

He paused, trying to get control of himself but couldn’t contain his rage. Striding across the room, he grabbed her by the throat, choking her until she drew her last breath. The perpetrator was arrested the next day.

Carl was the foreman of the jury who heard the case. “The jury finds the defendant guilty” he said as he read the verdict.

Unfortunately, the police had mistakenly arrested the man with whom the honest young lady had the one night stand. His DNA was all over her apartment and he had left traces in her panties which they found in her laundry hamper.

Carl, the jury foreman, smiled, knowing his girlfriend and her lover got exactly what they deserved!

CRASH!

Legion reentered his home to a shocking discovery. A formula that he had been working on for months now a purple, milky mess on his floor. Glass shards were everywhere. His hard work absorbed into his floor. His six eyes then focused on Rosemary and Dominic, whose clothes were soaked by the spill.

"Care to explain?" the old demon grumbled.

The two children wanted to lie but left they couldn't. "We did it, Legion." Rosemary confessed.

"We're sorry." his pupil Dominic sighed.

"Well at least you were honest about it." Legion muttered. "Grab a mop and bucket in the back, and clean it up."

Rosie and Dominic smiled, relieved they weren't going to be punished. As they hurried away, the old sorcerer pulled out a journal and began to write. 

"Entry number 5120. Interesting development. Truth potion works effectively through contact, not just ingestion. Further testing will be required."

Finally, I was going to tell my mother how I felt, how much I hated her strangling parenting style, her constant criticism.   I stood there in the fresh night air, feeling the crispness of autumn fill my throat and clear away the cobwebs from my neglected self-confidence.

As I looked into her eyes, I felt a wave of relief.   We could finally get past our differences, and have the kind of mother- son relationship I'd always wanted.

I could see that for once, she was the anxious one, and I felt a sense of supreme satisfaction, long overdue.

I took one more look at her prone form, lying bound and gagged on the railing of the bridge, and gave her a decisive push.   She fell silently into the ravine below, her body making the most satisfying crunching sound as it hit the pavement.

"Nice talking with you, mother," I said.

We had always sworn to be honest with each other. Ever since I met you in high school and we became an “item,” I never lied to you, and through all the years, marriage, and kids we’ve had, I assume you never did to me, either. But now, I wish we had never made that pact. I don’t want to hurt you.

“You’re cheating on me.” It was a statement, not a question.

“That’s not true.”

“I can see it in your eyes. Look at me!”

I looked. “I’ve never been unfaithful. Never.”

“Neville saw you kissing him in the market.”

I stared down at my shoes and whispered, “One kiss.”

“Who is he?” Your voice caught me in its iron grip.

“Not he. She. Her name is Robyn. And, yes, I do love her.”

"I'll protect you, I promise, I've always been honest." the man's voice muffled under a black mask. In one gloved hand, he held a dagger, in the other; my palm. 

Amidst the darkened chaos, guards shouted for my title, brandished angered orders of: 'find her!'

"How can I trust you?" I asked the wounded man.

"I don't need your trust, but a truth's a truth."

With that, he led me down shadowed corridors, knocking out soldiers along the way. Soon I stood facing a dead-end. A purple magic circle under my feet.

"YOU LIAR!" I spurted, tears violating my face. His slow approach turned swift and a blade pierced my heart. The circle grew brighter from pleasure of my imminent doom.

"I said I'll protect you, but not from this world, sweety." He peeled off his mask for a cruel, distateful smirk, "from a world that's far, far more deadly."

I was honest.

I was honest when I asked her out because I liked how her hair looked when I tucked it behind her ears.

I was honest when I kissed her a second time and a third time and a seventeenth time because it was intoxicating.

I told her these things, and she liked to hear them.

I didn't know if it was honesty when she said she wanted to marry me.

I didn't reply.

I was honest when I kissed her sister because they had the same eyes and I was honest when I ended up in a locked room with my best friend during some party that got out of hand and I was honest when I told her we weren't meant to last.

As I walked away from the sound of quiet sobbing, I knew that in all honesty, I had never been honest at all.

         Vanessa was beginning to irritate me, anything anyone else had done, she'd gone one better. To Clara's gingerly offered poem, Vanessa had poetry published. To Rose's excitement about a catwalk opportunity, she had walked for "names" Apparently Vanessa had modelled, had books published, sang with a band, and started her own company. Not that I thought she was lying,  just gilding the lilly a bit. 

Finally she turned on me 

 "and what interesting things have you done" she asked with a sneer

"Well, one wet Wednesday I walked out of Sirens Strip club with  $23,000 in my pocket"

Vanessa gulped and suddenly needed to go to the ladies

As she left Rosie burst out laughing

"Are you going to tell her that you are an interior designer and had just finished project managing the new bar" 

"No" I replied, smiling 

I believe one of the most honest things I have ever done is when I found a purse with $10,000 cash. If you ever find yourself in this situation it is the worst feeling in the world. My bills were piling up, I had lost my job, and God knows this would tide me over.

I brought the purse home and checked the ID, and wouldn't you know it, it belonged to an 83 year old widow. The next day there was a small article in the paper. It was her life savings and she lived alone.

"How could she have been so careless." It ended up her best friend of fifty years passed away and she was so distraught she left the purse on a bench and began wandering aimlessly. I returned it and she thanked me for my honesty.  One small problem, I made the story up.

Honestly!  

I wish it had been an accident but honestly it was just the straw that broke the camels back. He knew I had plans for Memorial Day, everybody did. That didn't stop him from ordering me in that morning. An emergency I would have understood. Instead he told me to finish the Thompson account. When he turned to leave he laughed and told me to enjoy the holiday and he'd be unavailable at a family barbeque. That's when I pushed him down the stairs. Seeing his body on the landing neck facing the wrong way I tossed the file after him and went to my party. I wasn't even late, it was if the heavens were smiling down on me. The death was ruled an accident, I was never even a suspect. Honestly I don't regret a thing. 

I read my confession over one last time before I put it in the fire. No one will ever know.