College Admissions Essay: Is It Bad To Lie?

I walked away feeling like I was a complete failure and that I didn’t deserve to go on. On the way home my mother tried to talk to me, but, I put on my headphones and cried silently. Once we were home my father asked how it went. The tears that were in my eyes and they became more evident as my shoulders and chest were shaking and trembling. The only sound in the room was the sound of me crying and wailing. I started crumbling and falling to the ground and my mother and father rushed to my side. They held me until the tears came to a stop and a little bit afterwards

I came home one day to see both of my parents sad. As a third grader, I didn’t completely understand at the time, but my father had been laid off from the job he’d had since his teenage years. My father had started at the age of eighteen as a student worker at Southern Miss, and after years of hard work he had been promoted to the manager of shipping and receiving on campus. When the recession struck, the need to save money resulted in his position being terminated. My father was without a job. My father loved that job and when he lost it, he changed. He found a new love, alcohol. He let his love for alcohol become an addiction. He would do anything for alcohol; he even had secret stashes when my mom had removed all the prior alcohol from the house. Quickly my father became a violent drunk and began to routinely beat my mother and me. He became unstoppable; no person could get him back on track so my mother, in an attempt to keep me safe, removed him from the house. Even my mother’s best efforts weren’t always enough, as my father constantly broke into our house. One day my mother and I came home and my father was waiting in our den with a gun. We walked in, he pointed the gun at us, and then back at himself. He couldn’t decide to kill my mother, himself, or just all of us. He had more hatred in his eyes

I woke up at 7AM to continuous, banging on the front door. Next thing I know ten policemen have barged into my room. I’ve not been able to stop replaying the words that came out of my mom’s mouth. They were quivering but sharp, not like the normal sweet and soft sound of her voice in the morning.

As we all know, lying is a constant part of many people’s lives, whether they realize it or not. Now and then, we’ve all lied to our parents about our homework being completed. (Even though your homework is not done because playing video games or texting your friends is more interesting.) Honestly, lot’s of us have told a lot of white lies or maybe even a whopper of a lie, and we all have varied views on when we should or shouldn 't lie. Such as Brad Blanton, an author of a book about lying and the article, “Honestly, Tell the Truth” who believes in the concept of radical honesty: telling the truth at all times. (excluding a matter of life or death) By cutting out the white lies we tell throughout the course of our lives, there will be less lies to, as Blanton states “unnecessarily complicate our lives.” I agree with Blanton and his opinion that we honestly need to tell the truth and that if we cut out most if the lies we tell, our lives will be free of the aftermath of a lie: damaged relationships and unnecessary amounts of stress. I believe that lying is burdening to the liar who usually fights a losing battle, for he will most likely be found out. I also believe that if we excessively lie, this pattern will become a habit and a problem that will be hard to get rid of in the future. I consider lying to be harmful and damaging to relationships and to negatively affect your character and lower your moral standards. Everyone has lied occasionally, if not frequently, but if

I wanted to say sorry for not contacting you since the night we sat in the forest together. I have a reason, but it may sound insane. You see i’m afraid. Afraid i’m going to hurt you, and turn out to be like my father. I am about to tell you my deepest secret that I have been too scared to tell anyone. You see, my father, he used to beat my mother and would scream out words of profanity while smashing empty bottles against the ground. One day my father came home in the dead of night. I remember the thudding of his boots, and the sounds of screaming from my mother telling him to leave and never come back. I don’t remember much after other than the 3 gun shots that ranging, the sound that told me my mother was gone from my life for good. The policemen took my father away to prison, and I remember the look in his eyes. He was no longer a man, father, or a human he was nothing but a monster. After they took him away my grandparents took me in but they could only see the part of my father that lived inside of me, the monster. They sent me away to an asylum. I returned last year. See Jade i’m scared that my grandparents were right. That part of my father lives inside of me, and that's why you need to stay away from me, I couldn’t live with the pain of hurting you. Just know I meant everything I said to you.

My mother was out of town, so I knew it was not her. I grew afraid of the strange woman in my house, the maroon-colored walls in my bedroom was giving me an ominous feeling, making my room look stained with blood. I went quietly out of my door and down the hallway, knowing that they were arguing in the kitchen by the volume of their voices. I paused in the middle of the hall, unsure whether to continue or to go back to my bedroom. I only decided on the former after I heard a muffled shout and the woman’s voice laughing. This decision was the biggest mistake of my life.

I didn’t know what I would do without Mother; she was my rock, the only thing that was constant in my life. She was my generous advisor, unmoving and strong. I pushed these thoughts away from my head; that was in the past, I couldn’t change it, and it could never be undone. Finally reaching my destination, I sprinted up the front steps, grabbed the brass knocker, and slammed it onto the giant wooden door. The door creaked open, and an annoyed voice spoke through the crack. “Adi, I’m busy right now, please come later.” The door was starting to close before I spoke, “Elle,” I said, my voice cracking, “please, Mother has died, and this act has been passed, and Father doesn’t know what to do, and I don’t know what to do.” The door flung open, and Elle started running in the direction of our house. I ran after her, and when we reached the house, Elle pushed the door open, and yelled, “Father? Father? I’m here!” When she finally found my father, sitting at the table, head in his hands, she embraced him from behind. “I’m here,” she whispered. “Girls, sit down, we have matters to discuss.” He

As I jotted down the answer to my geometry homework, I felt the vibrations of the floor trembling beneath my feet from the deafening screams of my parents. I continued my work, as I go uninterrupted by the daily routine argument. One day, I didn’t hear the screaming anymore, which was one of the biggest abnormalities in this household. I slunk halfway down the stairs and stretched my neck over the banister to catch a glimpse of what had happened without getting caught. The next thing I knew my older brother was standing by my side, his curiosity piqued. My mom broke the silence by peering her head around the corner of the living room, her eyes locked onto mine. As my brother and my cover were blown, we walked gingerly to the couch and sat down. I watched my mom’s stone cold face quiver out the words, “We...are....divorcing”. My face froze as if I was in a cartoon show. I tried to

At that moment I realized that I hurt her. She was hoping this one time I would follow the rules. She stood up for me, told my dad that I was responsible enough now to have the house to myself and I stabbed her in the back. She tried to talk but she could not get the words out. The only words I heard come from her mouth was, “I'm disappointed in you son.”. I heard it clearly, it was sharp like the tip of a fine knife. I wanted to kill myself.

My eighth grade year I slowly became someone I never wanted to be, and I didn’t even realize it. I became a deceitful liar. Constantly lying that much made me physically ill, every single day I could feel a huge pit in my stomach that devoured more of me. Every single day. I eventually got in trouble and got my phone taken away. Right now you are probably saying why is this stupid girl telling use these things about herself, doesn’t she want this? Well, it is relevant I promise. When I got my phone back the first thing I did was deleted all my social media, decided to focus on school, and joined Volunteer Club at my high school. In school, I pushed myself to get all my work done, and have I have gotten all A’s my entire career. Volunteer Club

After being away from my father for some time, I used to sit down with my mother and we’d talk about the violence that occurred when I was younger. I remember telling my mother that I was glad to be away from my father so that he wouldn’t hurt her anymore. My mother always told us that we should never allow anyone to mistreat or abuse us but we were somewhat confused because she continued to allow my father to treat her in that manner. The actions of my father had hardened my heart and I’d decided that I would never allow a man to hurt me, the way that my he had hurt my mother. I would defend myself no matter what.

Shall I be honest... I am one of those kids who just want to attend almost anywhere. When filling out applications the questions asked do not align with me. I believed my high school career consisted of stress and success, but when others who apparently earn Merits, who pass their AP tests, and soar on the SAT and ACT it is eminently discouraging; it makes you look back, and realize you have done zilch. You lose faith, all the compliments received on your abilities value nothing. Thus, ending up having your information sent to everyone and their guardian for university packages. Once you do, you smile, and are under the impression someone out there thinks I have a shot that I do not need to have it all. If these are just ploys to expand your

Ellie and I lay in our beds, neither one of us knew what to say. In the other room, our host parents were arguing. We didn’t know what about, but we knew it was serious. Then we heard a “THWACK” followed by silence. Ellie and I sat up in our beds and looked at each other, I could tell she was as scared as I was. “Was that? Did he just?” she asked me. Then the arguing started back up again. We calmed back down until we heard it again. “THWACK” We knew then, the noise we heard, was him beating her. We got up, our hearts racing; neither of us knew what to do. We got our nerves together to go get help. When we opened the door to our room we saw the children sitting on the couch crying out for their mother. I could see the fear in their face and I knew something needed to change.

It was a bone chilling January night; my mom received a call at about 11:15 PM, a call that changed my life forever. My Aunt June was on the other line. She was crying so hard my mother could barely understand her. Through the sobbing my mom finally understood that Brian, my cousin, had been in a horrible accident and she didn’t know how bad it was. My mother jumped out of the bed after she hung up the phone. She screamed up the stairs at my sister and me; it was a nerve shrilling scream. I could hear fear in her voice. My mom was always yelling at us growing up if we forgot to do something. She would even get us out of bed to finish something that wasn’t done completely. This particular

Devastated, I ran to my room gushing my eyes out. All these emotions going through my head of how my life would be without my parents in the same room or even house. From what I remember it all started about mid-June, the weeks before that were crucial. My parents would always argue over how to deal with a situation between me and my brother, Skyler. They hardly spoke to one another, but when they did they would just start bickering. I remember, one night after dinner they both went into ''their'' room with the door locked yelling at one another. Skyler and I didn’t know what to do, so we went downstairs and tried to figure out what was going to happen. With a scared tone I asked if mom and dad were going to get a divorce?" He answered back '' No, they love each other, they wouldn’t do that to us." That following night, was a school night everything was quiet except for my crying. I couldn’t sleep; all I was thinking about how it's going to affect my family.