Status: Wish me luck <3
I'll Write to a Serial Killer
1/1
Dear Dad Michael,
I’ve struggled to write this letter for several months. According to my therapist, this will help my well-being. However, I really don’t want to revisit those old wounds.
How do I even start a letter like this? Should I tell you how I’m doing in school? What my grades are? Just mindless small talk to take up space on this blank paper (If you really are wondering what my grades are they’re fine. I struggle a bit in math and science, but otherwise they’re okay.) I’m doing “socially acceptable” now. I have friends. Mostly ones that don’t care whose daughter I am. I tried to find people that didn’t know who you were, but as you can imagine that’s nearly impossible. Isn’t that what you wanted anyway? Attention? . Mikey and Gloria are fine too. Mikey has anxiety issues and Gloria has a fear of everything. She’s gotten pretty neurotic over the years.
Okay, I’ve guess I’ve avoided the subject at hand long enough. Basically Dad Michael Dad, I’m hurt. I know is selfish considering what you did to so many people and all the families you’ve destroyed, but I felt like I was a victim too. Growing up in a house where your father is possessive and is harboring a dark secret is no environment for three little children to grow up in. I felt so much embarrassment going to school and seeing the looks of fear and pity on my teachers and school mates’ faces. Like I was a monster. Like I was going to be just like you. Maybe that was too harsh. After all there was once a time when I looked up to you.
In a way, they were right. Those first few months after they discovered the bodies and your face was all over the news, I wanted to kill somebody. I wanted someone else to hurt like I was. To be desperate searching for answers, “What could make a person do this? What makes a person so cold hearted to take another life?” I understand a little bit. Maybe not enough to make me forgive you, but maybe I can try.
I feel even worse for those families. I wish there was something I could do for them. The son of one the first ladies you killed goes to my school. They didn’t move after the debacle like they were suggested to do. I don’t blame. They have every right to stay in their home. They did nothing wrong. Anyway, I think the boy seriously hates me. It’s not obvious, but it’s a feeling I get sometimes when we happen to be in the same area. I want to go up to him and apologize. I want to go up to him and apologize, but I can’t find the words to. One day maybe I will. Sometime. Definitely before I die.
Damn, now there are teardrops on the paper. Hopefully they’ll dry by the time you get this. Maybe I won’t send this one after all. I have too many mistakes anyway…
Sincerely yours truly Love
Samantha
I’ve struggled to write this letter for several months. According to my therapist, this will help my well-being. However, I really don’t want to revisit those old wounds.
How do I even start a letter like this? Should I tell you how I’m doing in school? What my grades are? Just mindless small talk to take up space on this blank paper (If you really are wondering what my grades are they’re fine. I struggle a bit in math and science, but otherwise they’re okay.) I’m doing “socially acceptable” now. I have friends. Mostly ones that don’t care whose daughter I am. I tried to find people that didn’t know who you were, but as you can imagine that’s nearly impossible. Isn’t that what you wanted anyway? Attention? . Mikey and Gloria are fine too. Mikey has anxiety issues and Gloria has a fear of everything. She’s gotten pretty neurotic over the years.
Okay, I’ve guess I’ve avoided the subject at hand long enough. Basically Dad Michael Dad, I’m hurt. I know is selfish considering what you did to so many people and all the families you’ve destroyed, but I felt like I was a victim too. Growing up in a house where your father is possessive and is harboring a dark secret is no environment for three little children to grow up in. I felt so much embarrassment going to school and seeing the looks of fear and pity on my teachers and school mates’ faces. Like I was a monster. Like I was going to be just like you. Maybe that was too harsh. After all there was once a time when I looked up to you.
In a way, they were right. Those first few months after they discovered the bodies and your face was all over the news, I wanted to kill somebody. I wanted someone else to hurt like I was. To be desperate searching for answers, “What could make a person do this? What makes a person so cold hearted to take another life?” I understand a little bit. Maybe not enough to make me forgive you, but maybe I can try.
I feel even worse for those families. I wish there was something I could do for them. The son of one the first ladies you killed goes to my school. They didn’t move after the debacle like they were suggested to do. I don’t blame. They have every right to stay in their home. They did nothing wrong. Anyway, I think the boy seriously hates me. It’s not obvious, but it’s a feeling I get sometimes when we happen to be in the same area. I want to go up to him and apologize. I want to go up to him and apologize, but I can’t find the words to. One day maybe I will. Sometime. Definitely before I die.
Damn, now there are teardrops on the paper. Hopefully they’ll dry by the time you get this. Maybe I won’t send this one after all. I have too many mistakes anyway…
Sincerely yours truly Love
Samantha
♠ ♠ ♠
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