Dear Angry Chick,
First, thanks for the good laugh. I needed that. Second, you shouldn’t be so easily triggered. Takes the fun right out of it.
To answer your question, I know you’re a girl from your girly handwriting. (You might want to ditch the hearts on the i’s.)
Oh, and how you played victim in your first letter to Ms. Callahan. Remember when you were all like “Poor me, my mommy doesn’t love me and I have to write a paper”?
Boo-fucking-hoo.
We all have our problems.
You also asked me why I’m an asshole. The truth is, I’m not. Not in real life, anyway. I’m actually a nice enough guy when you get to know me. Although not nearly as nice as I’m guessing you are. I act out when life sucks balls. But you, angry chick? You seem like someone who takes it and says thank you.
Kudos to you for not becoming homicidal.
And you say you’re a good person. (Almighty on your good-girl throne with your pure, untainted soul.) How about I be the judge of that? You see, I happen to think we’re only as good as the worst thing we’ve ever done.
So, tell me, angry girl,
What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?
- Zac
P. S. : Here’s a fake name so you don’t have to keep calling me “Grammar Police.” You’re welcome.
I could choke him.
If this “Zac” boy genuinely thinks I’m dim enough to spill my darkest secrets to a stranger, he’s in for a surprise. I make quick work of studying the library, zeroing in on the elderly couple scouring the psychology section, and debate on giving this troll any more of my time. Do I answer? Or trash the letter and end this once and for all?
Five minutes later, I settle on “Eh, what do I have to lose?”
He wants a confession?
A confession he’ll get.