[ 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 .

`` Mr. Graves, are you certain your client has been telling the truth?'' The voice of the judge cut through the room. I glanced up from my papers, and stood up, taking off my gloves and scarf. 
 
 The jury panel gasped a little bit when they saw my unscarred face and hands. More than a few looked jealous, but most merely looked impressed. I nodded. Good. I had affixed myself as a person who told the truth in their mind. 
 
 My client, meanwhile, was a mass of scars. They marred his face, hands, neck, biceps. A few of them were deep and ugly. He was staring at his handcuffed hands, looking despondent. 
 
 I cleared my throat. `` Yes, your honor. And I intend to prove not only to you, but to the men and women of the jury that the evidence the state has not does not prove my client's innocence, but that the evidence proves his innocence!'' 
 
 The jury mumbled amongst themselves as I launched into my opening statement. 
 
 -- - 
 
 `` Thank you, Mr. Graves,'' my client said, grinning in my office, wearing his ratty yet comfortable clothes once again. `` I thought I'd be locked up for good, but you... you pulled off a miracle. `` 
 
 I smiled a little, straightening my posture and linking my fingers on the desk. `` It was n't me, Mr. Williams. It was your testimony that made the most compelling argument.'' 
 
 Williams smiled, the scars on his face stretching and distorting. 
 
 `` Mr. Graves, you're a godsend. I can never thank you enough. I'm going to go and try and pull my life together.'' 
 
 There. A small little slice, right by his ear. It was n't much, and he did n't notice it, and I did n't stare. No one deserved to be caught, especially in the lies they tell themselves. 
 
 Mr. Williams thanked me profusely, continued to make that same promise that tore open that scar a little more each time, then left. 
 
 When he was gone, I once again stood in the mirror in my office. I unbuttoned my shirt, allowing myself a wince as I opened the shirt a bit further. Yep, it was still there. The one scar that I had from telling myself the lie. The biggest lie I had ever told, and it was the only reason I was still around. 
 
 I took a deep breath, looked myself dead in the mirror, and mouthed the lie to myself. 
 
 The pain lanced through me as the scar re-opened once again, starting at my collarbone, opening up through my stomach, curling around my belly button, and immediately soaking my pant leg with blood as it ended somewhere in my inner thigh. 
 
 The pain had been enough to knock me out the first time I had told that lie. My parents had rushed me to the hospital. Now, all I did was grunt, set my teeth, and reach for the suture kit on the counter in front of me. 
 
 That lie hurt, even more each time I said it. But I had to let myself know I was okay. Even if it was a lie.
