It was the middle of third grade and I was not sure what had got into me. I lied about many things -- I lied that I had eaten all my dinner, when in fact I buried it in the trash can. I lied that I had made my bed, when clearly I had not. My lies were not hurting anyone, but for some reason I felt the need to tell lies on an impulse  that didn't feel like my own. I was labeled a liar. One day my sisters and I were invited to spend the weekend with my aunt. We all loved it. She spoiled us with her time.And she was an amazing artist. She had cool pencils, erasers and other supplies that any young girl would love to get her hands on. Then it happened...someone took one of Aunt Kim's good art erasers and rubbed it across the entire top of the TV. The eraser ruined the shiny finish on the TV's casing. All the three of us were called into the TV room and asked to admit. Nobody did! Aunt Kim told us how disappointed she was. The next thing I knew was that she was on the phone with my parents and they were on their way to picking me up. It had to be me! I was the liar. I argued, but no one listened. And then before dinner there was a knock at the front door! Aunt Kim was standing there. It turned out my younger sister finally felt guilty! She admitted that she was the one who rubbed the eraser on the TV. I was invited back! A lie may take care of the present, but it has no future. No matter how big or small your lies are, once you are labeled a liar, earning trust takes a lot of work and time. Why does the author tell lies?
She just does that out of a strong desire. She can find pleasure in telling a lie. She is afraid to admit her mistakes. She likes to play tricks on others.