[ CW ] Construct a story where every fifth sentence is either a lie , or something that LOOKS like a lie but is actually the truth .

I was five years old when the revolution reached my village, they marched through the streets proclaiming themselves liberators, all the while the books burned and the local leaders vanished. I thought they looked funny as they marched uniformly through the streets in their shiny black boots and pointy hats. I broke free from my mothers firm hand and ran across the road to join them in the marching, I expected the same endearing laughs I'd to receive when I'd run alongside the village elders in the annual parade, but no laughs were given. My father pulled me aside sternly, but the infraction had already been observed, two men broke free from the endless stream of black coated soldiers, rifle butts poised at my fathers stern face. I looked up at my mother confused and awaited an answer to what I saw: `` Do not worry child, look away everything will be alright.'' 
 
 
 My father did not return, he owned the wrong books and had been seen at too many meetings of factory workers. My mother sensed the wolf at the door, information that led to arrest meant food and security and our neighbours were very hungry. She smiled at every passerby, sang the new national anthem three decibels above the rest and was never the last to stop clapping, but it was not enough. A concerned hat tip from a passing gentlemen while we walked to the market told her all she needed to know, we moved into my Uncle's cellar that night. They burst through the door while we slept, I ran to my mother frightened: `` Do not worry child, stand behind me, everything will be alright.'' 
 
 
 I never saw my mother again, home-cooked meals and hand stitched clothes were replaced with two ladles of broth and and ill fitting pyjamas. We all looked so funny with our shaved heads and black and white attire, like little robbers, but all of us innocent. I grew up there in the barred room, I played in the concreted garden for thirty minutes a day and learned the feats of the glorious leader and the wickedness of the old ways. I was fifteen when I was finally deemed tall enough to serve, they measured me for my pointy hat and my shiny black boots, I saw myself in the mirror but it did n't look funny anymore. They took me to the room where my superior sat, he warmly looked me up and down and handed me my documents: `` Just sign here young man, everything will be alright now.''
