During the summer of 2006, my older sister Eleanor had finally finished school and had just about finished applying for her entries into her tertiary choices at university. My parents were moderately financially secure but the one university that Eleanor really wanted to attend was private and very expensive.
As hard as my parents worked, they made a few unfortunate business decisions which meant they could not afford to send her to that college. So Eleanor decided to apply for a full scholarship as it was the only way she could do the degree she wanted there.
Eleanor had also organised a trip abroad with her friends instead of doing the Schoolies thing, so she had a tight deadline to get her scholarship application submitted. In the final weeks of completing the application and finalising her travel plans, things got very busy and stressful.
On the second-last day before Eleanor was to leave, she asked me if I could do her a favour and post her application off for her. She was so busy and needed to pack, confirm flights, make last calls etc and needed help to get everything done. I agreed. I could handle the task of posting a letter! How hard could it be? She stressed the importance of the letter to me several times that night and I assured her all would be fine.
The next day, the day before Eleanor was to leave, I left for work early to post her application and also do some shopping at the mall. I loved my shopping. I was addicted to clothes and this is where Eleanor and I differed. Eleanor was very responsible and saved all her money, whereas I would indulge in spending my disposable income on clothes and going out.
I dropped into one of my favourite stores and noticed that they were having a massive sale on some of the items that I had been eyeing off for months. I was so excited and immediately started picking clothes off the rack to try on. I had a handful of clothes and was taking some time trying them all on. I started to rush as I wasn’t going to be able to try all the clothes before work. I quickly made my decisions and made some bargain purchases. I was so excited and happy with my new items. I then started towards work.
I got to work without a care in the world and clocked on. It wasn’t until a couple of hours later that I realised I hadn’t posted the letter. I asked my boss if I could take a ten minute break so I could stop off at the post. I went to get the letter out of my bag… and couldn’t find it. That’s when it hit me — I had left my sister’s most important scholarship application at the store earlier that morning.
I bolted to the store. I was so panicked that I made no sense to the sales assistant. I ran into every change room but could not find the letter. I explained what I had done but they could not remember seeing anything like that. They advised me to go to centre management as someone may have handed it in as lost property. But it wasn’t there.
I felt so sick. I ran to the bathroom and threw up. What was I going to do? I couldn’t tell Eleanor as she would never trust me to do anything again — and rightly so. I couldn’t believe I had stuffed up.
I thought to call Eleanor and explain what happened, but I knew there wasn’t enough time to finish another application. And if she couldn’t submit her application, I knew her holiday would be ruined, all because of me.
I went back to work, thinking a couple of hours of hard work would clear my mind. After I clocked off I was no closer to a decision. I went home and hoped that Eleanor was not there. As soon as I saw her,I knew what my decision was. I couldn’t tell her. She was so happy. I walked away and ignored the niggling hole that was eating up my insides.
While Eleanor was away she called up to fill us in on her travels and never stopped asking about her application. She did have other letters come through, however none from her most desired one. Towards the end of her trip, Eleanor was getting so upset that I started to regret not telling her what I had done. Her trip was slowly getting ruined from her stressing about not receiving a reply.
Eleanor arrived four days later and couldn’t believe that she had received letters of acceptance from other institutions, but not the one that she really wanted. So she called the university’s administration and asked about the progress of her application. They informed her that they had not received an application from her.
Eleanor went off on the phone, explaining that it had been sent weeks ago. She gave me a glaring stare and I tried to act calm and confirm that it was sent. I knew I should have confessed what had happened, but I couldn’t now that I had lied for so long.
Also, I thought that if she explained that it had been sent and perhaps went missing in the post, she could be allowed to resubmit her application. Unfortunately, the university had already made its selection. But they said she could reapply next semester. Eleanor was so upset — she really wanted to start her studies right after her travels. She ended up selecting her second preference and seems to be doing really well. I had single-headedly changed the course of my sister’s career.
I know what I did was pitiful and horrible. I look back now and realise how immature and selfish I was for not confessing. Instead of being honest and giving my sister a real chance I lied to cover myself. I feel so guilty and will never be dishonest again. I have to live with this forever.
*All names in this story have been changed.
Picture: Getty Images.*
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