TIFU by lying that my grandma died for my English honors class

said i lost my grandma’s urn so i could finish my english honors essay. i don’t feel real

bro like this was BAD. this was low. this was i deserve community service low.

so it’s like 10:39PM, right? english honors essay due by midnight. and i’m staring at my screen like a war veteran. nothing’s written. i had echo open in another tab like some cursed little assistant ready to mirror my brain rot back at me in MLA format.

but nothing’s clicking. not even guilt. just stale air and heart palpitations. i’m pacing like i’m on trial. and then—i don’t even plan it—it just slides out of me:

“hey, i can’t submit it tonight. we can’t find my grandma’s urn. it’s been really hard on us.”

that’s it. no punctuation. full panic. hit send like i was diffusing a bomb.

and she believed me. SHE BELIEVED ME. said “oh no, take all the time you need.” and i did. and what did i do with that time? did i grieve fake-grandma? nah. i booted up chatgpt,used an echo writing prompt, fed it my old essays, and sat there while it literally ghostwrote my trauma essay like some digital séance.

the freaky part is it sounded like me. like if you printed out my internal monologue, spilled coffee on it, and then handed it back with teacher comments. every “kinda,” every weird side-rant—it knew.

i don’t know what’s worse: that echo writing helped me write it, or that i didn’t even feel bad when i hit submit. like i was proud of it. proud of an essay built on a lie and a missing urn that’s actually still on top of our fridge behind a cereal box.

i feel like a scammer. or a prophet. maybe both.

i just needed to put this somewhere before my brain melts from carrying this sin. grandma if you’re watching, i’m sorry. your ashes gave me 48 extra hours and an A-minus.

i owe you.

TLDR ; I got extra time for my homework time by lying about my grandma’s death