The lie that saved me

Hello stemians and the @steem4nigeria community I am happy to meet fellow stemians from my country hope i am welcomed
So I made my post for the contest and here it is

The Lie That Saved Me

That afternoon sun was blazing hot, but it couldn’t burn through the excitement in my chest. I had planned everything. Told them I was going to school. Wore jeans and a decent top over the kind of singlet Emmy liked. Packed a few books in my bag, just in case I needed to make the lie more convincing later. I even threw in my school ID. A lie, yes but a well-dressed one.

You see, Emmy wasn’t just anyone. He was soft-spoken, playful, and had a way of looking at me that made the world slow down. We had been talking for a while, and that afternoon, I decided to visit him.

I wasn’t supposed to, of course. As a university student, freedom is supposed to come naturally, but not in a house where your brothers are watching your every move like FBI agents. So I lied. Simple. I said I had a class to catch up on.

I didn’t even feel guilty. Not then. Not when Emmy opened his door and smiled that smile. Not when he pulled me into a hug like we hadn’t seen in years, even though it had barely been a week. We spent the afternoon like careless kids—laughing, talking, watching videos, playing songs, and sneaking kisses between jokes.

Time slipped away too quickly, like it always does when you’re doing something you’re not supposed to. By the time I checked the clock, it was almost 5 p.m. My heart skipped a beat.

I threw on my slippers, adjusted my bag, and hugged Emmy one last time at his door.

“If anything happens, call me,” he said.

“Don’t worry. Nothing will happen,” I smiled.

That was the moment I tempted fate.

I should’ve known better. The road back home felt longer than usual, like something was off. And just a few meters from my junction, I saw them—two of my brothers, standing beside our family friend’s car. My stomach sank.

They hadn’t seen me yet, so I quickly tried to fix my hair, wiped the gloss off my lips, and opened my book to hold in my hand—again, for the ‘school’ effect. But my legs were suddenly heavier than usual. And before I could fake a phone call or cross to the other side, one of them turned and locked eyes with me.

He froze. Then frowned.

“Where are you coming from?” he asked as I approached.

“School,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“Dressed like this?” the other one added.

I looked down. Nothing too wild—but not what I normally wore to class either. Still, I tried to keep my cool.

“I just had to return some books to a friend,” I lied, eyes darting anywhere but their faces. “I didn’t stay long.”

“You’re lying,” one of them said, walking closer. “We saw Emmy’s story an hour ago. You were in the background.”

I froze. Just like that, my house of lies started crumbling. I had forgotten Emmy had a habit of posting random clips. I didn’t even realize I had walked behind the camera, laughing at something dumb he said.

My lips moved, but nothing came out. My chest tightened. My legs wanted to run, but where to?

“Get in the car,” one of them said.

I obeyed silently.

The ride home was the quietest I had ever experienced. I could hear my heartbeat louder than the engine. No one yelled. No one scolded. That was worse than shouting. It was disappointment, thick in the air like smoke.

When we got home, they didn’t tell our parents. They didn’t say a word. Just one look and the silence that followed was enough.

I sat in my room that night, staring at the ceiling, feeling everything. Embarrassment. Shame. Regret. But also… relief.

Because that lie, as stupid as it was, saved me.

Not from them—but from myself.

It made me realize how far I was drifting. How easy it was to fall into something just because it felt good. I wasn’t a bad girl—I was just careless, too trusting, and too sure I could control everything. But life doesn’t always play fair. And one small lie can snowball into something big enough to bury you.

Since that day, things changed. Not overnight, but gradually. I started being more honest with them and with myself. Not because I suddenly became perfect, but because that fear, that moment of getting caught, reminded me of who I really was and who I didn’t want to become.

So yes, I lied. I messed up. I got caught.

But I also grew up.

And sometimes, that’s the best thing a mistake can give you.