To My Darling
Untitled
To My Darling,
First and foremost, let me say I wish it had never come to this. I wish we could have been friends, even something more. I never wished for you to abuse or abandon me. All you had to do was write back, just one simple letter, perhaps even an autograph. But I knew upon your refusal that it was my duty to teach you a lesson. Someone needed to knock you off your self-righteous pedestal, and I was happy to make you fall.
It was all too easy to abduct you. Your foolish security barely even noticed as I slipped into your dressing room. Scantily dressed models running around were more important than protecting you, but who can truly blame them for being distracted? You screamed when you saw me, I think you somehow knew I was the one sending you those letters- the letters that kept you awake all night. Didn't you know I loved you? All I ever wanted was you, to be like you! But you, you ignored me. You forced me to do this. You struggled against me, but not even someone as amazing as you is immune to chloroform.
I dragged you out a back door into an empty parking lot, where naturally my car was waiting. I’m a planner, you see. I tell you this now, because you must be wondering why no one saved you. Not one person stopped me, none of your "friends" came to rescue you, or even checked in your dressing room after all that time. You see, I am the only person who truly loved you, and you threw it all away. You rejected me so brutally, with such hatred! You never deserved to be you. I did, which is why I took what was so rightfully mine.
Would you like to know what I did first? What part of you I claimed? It was your hair, every soft lock. Your hair got attention, turned heads across a room. I've always just been a dull brunette; no one looks at me like that. No one makes an effort to see me, but they will now. You laid on my table so helplessly, going in and out of consciousness as I took a razor blade to your scalp. The gashes and wounds were no accident, if you wish to know. Every single cut was intentional punishment for being so cruel. Your auburn hair fell to the floor like strands of fire, surrounding my feet and setting my skin ablaze. It smelled like you, like almonds and strawberries. I threw it everywhere, all over myself, and laughed at how pathetic you looked. It was finally my turn to be the beautiful one in the room.
You wish I had quit right there, do you not? Hair grows back, you could have recovered, but I certainly could not stop there. I had to ruin every single part of you, inside and out. You still had everything else I wanted for years. My skin was a disgusting mess, people starred at my acne, at my blotches and scars. How was it fair, that someone as conceited as you could have an utterly flawless complexion? Your skin was nothing more than a gilded cover for the blackness that molded in your soul. I have to admit, obtaining the acid wasn't easy. College science labs are on strict security, but if you selflessly volunteer to clean one, you can your hands on almost anything, undetected. Every potent drop I poured on you melted your skin, leaving scars I know you will cry over for years to come. I bet that you feel most horrible about your lips and the nerves that will never be the same again. I hope you cry over all of the kisses you shall never feel, all of the lovers who you will never have. You never deserved them anyways, they should have been mine! Yes, you will miss every succulent memory of your lips the most, I guarantee.
You were waking up now, and I must tell you this was my absolute favorite part. With pliers grasped tightly in my hand, I ripped off your delicate, perfectly manicured pinky nail, and smiled as you screamed. You struggled violently against the restraints around your wrists and ankles, but even you knew then it was no use. I wanted you awake for this, and I had nineteen more nails to go. You had every luxury in the world, while I never even had the money for a simple manicure. You tell me, where is the justice? Why could I not have what you did? Have you managed to get the blood stains off your hands and feet yet, by the way? Do write back, and inform me.
It was your screaming then that got me where I am today, behind the bars where someone as vile as you deserves to rot. While you, the criminal, wander freely about the world to seek undeserved sympathy, I sit on a concrete bed day and night plotting. I think of your face every day, but not your old smile, not your soft dimples, or the blushing apples of your cheeks. I think of you on my table, and how for but a few hours I put you in your place, and took mine. I think of the bubbling, rotting flesh in mounds all over you. I think of all the precious, new scars. I think of you as a mortal now.
I wonder if you were able to read this far, or if you gave up and panicked. How did I get your address again? Who mailed this for me? Am I watching you? All I can say, my love, is that I will see you soon. I hope these words chill you straight through your bones, and I hope you lay awake at night, just like I do in this cell, wondering when your life will matter again.
Yours Truly,
Jasper
First and foremost, let me say I wish it had never come to this. I wish we could have been friends, even something more. I never wished for you to abuse or abandon me. All you had to do was write back, just one simple letter, perhaps even an autograph. But I knew upon your refusal that it was my duty to teach you a lesson. Someone needed to knock you off your self-righteous pedestal, and I was happy to make you fall.
It was all too easy to abduct you. Your foolish security barely even noticed as I slipped into your dressing room. Scantily dressed models running around were more important than protecting you, but who can truly blame them for being distracted? You screamed when you saw me, I think you somehow knew I was the one sending you those letters- the letters that kept you awake all night. Didn't you know I loved you? All I ever wanted was you, to be like you! But you, you ignored me. You forced me to do this. You struggled against me, but not even someone as amazing as you is immune to chloroform.
I dragged you out a back door into an empty parking lot, where naturally my car was waiting. I’m a planner, you see. I tell you this now, because you must be wondering why no one saved you. Not one person stopped me, none of your "friends" came to rescue you, or even checked in your dressing room after all that time. You see, I am the only person who truly loved you, and you threw it all away. You rejected me so brutally, with such hatred! You never deserved to be you. I did, which is why I took what was so rightfully mine.
Would you like to know what I did first? What part of you I claimed? It was your hair, every soft lock. Your hair got attention, turned heads across a room. I've always just been a dull brunette; no one looks at me like that. No one makes an effort to see me, but they will now. You laid on my table so helplessly, going in and out of consciousness as I took a razor blade to your scalp. The gashes and wounds were no accident, if you wish to know. Every single cut was intentional punishment for being so cruel. Your auburn hair fell to the floor like strands of fire, surrounding my feet and setting my skin ablaze. It smelled like you, like almonds and strawberries. I threw it everywhere, all over myself, and laughed at how pathetic you looked. It was finally my turn to be the beautiful one in the room.
You wish I had quit right there, do you not? Hair grows back, you could have recovered, but I certainly could not stop there. I had to ruin every single part of you, inside and out. You still had everything else I wanted for years. My skin was a disgusting mess, people starred at my acne, at my blotches and scars. How was it fair, that someone as conceited as you could have an utterly flawless complexion? Your skin was nothing more than a gilded cover for the blackness that molded in your soul. I have to admit, obtaining the acid wasn't easy. College science labs are on strict security, but if you selflessly volunteer to clean one, you can your hands on almost anything, undetected. Every potent drop I poured on you melted your skin, leaving scars I know you will cry over for years to come. I bet that you feel most horrible about your lips and the nerves that will never be the same again. I hope you cry over all of the kisses you shall never feel, all of the lovers who you will never have. You never deserved them anyways, they should have been mine! Yes, you will miss every succulent memory of your lips the most, I guarantee.
You were waking up now, and I must tell you this was my absolute favorite part. With pliers grasped tightly in my hand, I ripped off your delicate, perfectly manicured pinky nail, and smiled as you screamed. You struggled violently against the restraints around your wrists and ankles, but even you knew then it was no use. I wanted you awake for this, and I had nineteen more nails to go. You had every luxury in the world, while I never even had the money for a simple manicure. You tell me, where is the justice? Why could I not have what you did? Have you managed to get the blood stains off your hands and feet yet, by the way? Do write back, and inform me.
It was your screaming then that got me where I am today, behind the bars where someone as vile as you deserves to rot. While you, the criminal, wander freely about the world to seek undeserved sympathy, I sit on a concrete bed day and night plotting. I think of your face every day, but not your old smile, not your soft dimples, or the blushing apples of your cheeks. I think of you on my table, and how for but a few hours I put you in your place, and took mine. I think of the bubbling, rotting flesh in mounds all over you. I think of all the precious, new scars. I think of you as a mortal now.
I wonder if you were able to read this far, or if you gave up and panicked. How did I get your address again? Who mailed this for me? Am I watching you? All I can say, my love, is that I will see you soon. I hope these words chill you straight through your bones, and I hope you lay awake at night, just like I do in this cell, wondering when your life will matter again.
Yours Truly,
Jasper