The Truth Does Not Exist

The sun was shining down through the leaves of the trees, creating a bright, carefree atmosphere that contrasted starkly with Alliana’s mood. She was sitting with her back to a tree in a wide open park somewhere in Alabama - she wasn’t quite sure which town exactly - with her knees tucked up tightly to her chest and her head in her arms. Beside her on the ground laid a dark blue floral knapsack, the only thing she had bothered to take with her from her home back in New York. She had shoved a few changes of clothes inside, along with the few items she had with sentimental value; a silver locket her grandmother had given her, a keychain from her best friend, and most importantly, several of her journals.

Alliana had started keeping journals after her mother had told her about the lie: the lie that had destroyed any trust Alliana had in her family, the lie that had turned her entire world upside-down, and the lie that had caused her to travel all the way to Alabama in the first place. What was this great lie? The lie in itself was several lies – the lie was everything.

The lie was about memories. She could remember yesterday, clear as a bell. She could remember last week fairly clearly, with perhaps a few insignificant details forgotten here and there. She could remember the majority of last month. She thought she could remember last year, just like she thought she could remember her childhood. But that is where the lie was hidden. Alliana could not remember.

And instead of telling her and reminding her of her past, Alliana’s parents simply told her different, less painful stories about her life; stories that were not true. She did not remember her parents getting into a horrible, fatal car accident at the age of four which resulted in her being taken in by her aunt and uncle who raised her. She did not remember that she was an only child and the people she believed to be her brother and sisters were really her three cousins.

The lie terrified Alliana. She was afraid of what she would forget in the future. If given enough time would she forget the greatest lie of her life as well? Because of this she had started to write about her day, in great detail, every night so she could look back weeks later and know the truth about her life. She clutched one of them know to her chest, the first one she had started writing back when the lie had been revealed. She reread them every day, in an effort to remind herself of her own past.

Everything they’ve ever told me is a lie. My entire past, my life, everything I believed to be true has been ripped away. They all lied, and now I’m doubting everything. I don’t know who to trust, who to believe. (2/27/22)

The first entries were angry. Over time, however, she began to just document her life for her own benefit. It became less about venting over what her family had to her in the past and more about making sure she would remember the truth in the future.

They’re telling me it was for my own benefit, but I think it was more for theirs. I know they love me, but I need to find out what happened for myself. I can’t keep trusting their memories. I need to find the truth. (7/15/22)

That was the last entry she had written before she decided she had to find the truth for herself. She had packed her bag in the middle of the night and scribbled out a quick goodbye to her parents. Knowing full well that she would most likely never see her family again, she left for Alabama to find out the truth about her past.

She couldn’t believe that the first place she had gone to had been such a failure. Alliana had been sure that once she laid eyes on her real childhood home, the one that she had lived in with her real parents before they had died, that everything would come rushing back to her. She had been hoping for a quick flash of what her parents had looked like, perhaps a memory of them running around with her on the front lawn or maybe kissing her goodnight. But she had no such luck. All she saw when she looked at the old house in Edgewater, Alabama was just that: an empty house. Tears of frustration filled her eyes and threatened to spill out over her cheeks.

Was it worth all the trouble? Suddenly she was doubting herself. Maybe she should have stayed in New York with her family, enjoying her last few weeks alive. Maybe she shouldn’t have left. Maybe she should have realized that finding the truth about her past would have been a lot harder than she was originally expecting. She sat there in the park for a while, completely and utterly left alone to wallow in her own self-pity. After a while, however, she began to calm down and rethink her plan.

She couldn’t give up just because her original plan hadn’t worked. She couldn’t give up the search and let the lie win. She couldn’t give up until she found the truth.

Time was running out, so she would have to get started soon.