[ WP ] You live in a world where each lie creates a scar on the liar 's body . The bigger the lie , the deeper and larger the mark . One day , you meet someone that only has one scar ; it is the biggest one you have ever seen .

I was on the phone with my wife at the time, sitting at a patio table with my half-eaten sandwich in front of me. `` I'll be home at five. I promise.'' The thin line stretched across my index finger and I dabbed the blood away with a napkin discreetly. A couple walked by, hand in hand. I glanced over for half of a second. She did n't look like anything. 
 
 I gave him a second look as he walked past, obviously. He'd have to be used to it by now. He had the fair complexion we'd all coveted in grade school but long since abandoned with the convenience of lying. I wondered for a moment how he'd done it, been so honest in such a dishonest world. 
 
 This train of thought was abandoned shortly after, when I'd taken up scrolling through my facebook feed until I had to get back to the office. 
 
 `` I love you,'' I half-heard the man say say. Then I heard her scream. I glanced up attentively, as did everyone. His shirt stuck to his chest, blood coming to the surface. `` Please. I mean it.'' 
 
 `` If you mean it, why this? Why lie about something like that?!?'' 
 
 `` I love you,'' he repeated. A wet, tearing sound accompanied his words and the blood was soaking his shirt. `` I do n't know why this happens.'' Tears formed in his eyes. 
 She got up from her seat. Her face shown a mixture of anger and pity. 
 
 `` You do n't need to lie. I'm sorry.'' She walked out. I got up and walked over to the man, shaken. 
 
 `` Dude, are you alright?'' I asked, picking the napkins up off the table and handing them to him. 
 
 `` I do n't lie.'' He said, face pale from blood loss. `` But this happens everytime I say it. Even to my own mother.''
