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Jamison hated Hypocrisy, and his parents supposedly hated it too. But, they were hypocrites themselves. ©okazaki

Mystery / Horror
Age Rating:

01; Hypocrisy + Lies

Lies are the most hated form of human communication, correct? So, if it’s hated so much, why do we use it? Hypocrites are people who say or are supposedly something they aren’t, correct? So tell me why, my mother, who hates hypocrites, is a hypocrite herself? The other day, she’d told me that her old boyfriend had cheated on her, and mentally abused her, and caused her s much pain. Why did I see her earlier today, cheating on my dad? Who pampered her and showered her with love every day?

I laughed, this hypocrisy is nuts. She cheated on him because he made her feel, ‘Trapped.’ I felt the same way as you do. What the hell? She cheated on him with a man she probably won’t ever see again, and had one of the most sacred forms of love with him? He cursed, he felt bad for his father, in the beginning. But guess what? You're correct, He cheated on her too, after he’d also witnessed her cheating on him.

I felt like crying. The tight feeling in my throat was quite painful, and I couldn’t help but sob. The parents that I’d previously known, the moral, loving, flirty parents. Where had they gone? “Jamison, where are you?” My mother called my name. I felt like slapping her. I quickly ran into the bathroom, and yelled out. “Bathroom!” My mother, Cadina Henderfin, knocked on the door. “Jami, what are you doing in there?” I quickly replied with a nasty voice. “What do you think?” My mother didn’t make another noise. I hadn’t thought she left, not at all. She’s not like that. I heard a slight tap on the door, but didn’t open it yet. I heard a slight shuffle, maybe a click too.

“Mother, you’re all Lies.” I left the bathroom. My eyes slightly lowered in disgust, as I saw my parent’s horrified expression. I turned, only for my expression to be horrified as well. My bathroom door was covered in blood. My hair was moving from the wind, so I looked to the direction it came from. I looked at the window, only to be terrified at the red handprint beside the window. The person who tapped the door, and the shuffling,

that wasn’t my mom.

this is the second book of my Horror/Mystery short stories series. I'll probably end this on the tenth short story.

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