The end sentence of River of Names, by Dorothy Allison is arguably one of the finer sentences I have ever had the pleasure of reading. The scene unfolds like this: the young girl (no named identified) and Jesse are talking in bed. Jesse says to her, “you tell the funniest stories,” (Allison 21). However, this lighthearted sentiment is swiftly replaced by the young girl’s inner monolog, “Yeah, I tell her. But I lie.” (Allison 21). Until this moment, I never realized how powerful the word “lie” truly is. This story is heavily anchored in elements of human trauma. In her short years, the protagonist has experienced varied levels of abuse, which include, emotional, physical, rape, tragedy, all at the hands of her family. Being that family remains