Dear Bastard,

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic
To all other guys out there named Nathan, sorry.
And sorry for my language.

Submitted: May 05, 2010

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Submitted: May 05, 2010

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Dear The Biggest Fucking Bastard I Will Ever Meet,

. Yes, you, Nathan. Hmm, where should I start? Oh, I know.

. What the fuck?? What the fuck where you on? At least, I’m assuming you were on something. So, what the fuckwas it? Where the fuck do you get off? What the fuck were you thinking?

. It was what, almost seven years ago? I was eight. Which puts you at what, twelve? Thirteen? What the fuck! Where the fuck did you get that idea? Where the fuck did you get your nerve? You Bastard!

. I hope you’re dying a very slow, painful, and hideous death right now. I hope your soul is being eaten away as we speak. I hope you have been dying inside for the last seven years. I hope that one day, I will meet you again, so that if this hasn’t been killing you, I can yell at you in person and then beat the fucking shit out of you with a baseball bat, until you’re a millimeter from death. But I wouldn’t let you die. I would let you lay there and beg for death, but I would never kill you. No, I would have to make sure your soul was destroyed first. I would have you live completely destroyed on the inside year after year, ten years for every year you made me live. I would make sure no one killed you, and you didn’t kill yourself. That would be too merciful. You, Nathan, do not deserve death.

. I’m staring at your facebook page now. I searched your name, and here’s your profile. At least everything on your profile that I can see without being a friend. You look happy. Are you happy, Nathan? Or Nate, as you say your name is here. But you used to go by Nathan, didn’t you.

. Hmm, “Nate”, shall I tell you what it was like? And what it’s been like for the last seven years? That way you know what to expect when I hunt you down and show you, so you can feel it yourself. Let’s see. Imagine, for a second, that you are in second or third grade. You are young, naïve, innocent, trusting, and happy with the world. Now, Nathan, we’re going to change that. But first, make sure you know what it’s like to be happy, because that’s the last time that’s ever going to happen.

. Now we bring in someone else, someone who will eventually destroy that picture of life. This is someone you’ve seen before, been around before. Say, the kid in the family that’s friends with your family, and has been for about twelve years. You are having fun, playing legos. And then something changes.

. And you of course, being only eight, have no idea what’s going on. You are playing legos. You don’t know what this guy is doing to you. You don’t know anything other than the fact that you feel very uncomfortable. You’re just an eight year old, innocent and inexperienced. For all you know, this is normal; you’re just a weird kid. So you don’t say anything, and let it go on for hours. Finally, he leaves, and it’s over. You still don’t understand, and push it out of your mind.

. Now fast forward about five years. Today, you and you sister get out the legos for the first time in years. And then suddenly, you remember the last time you played with them. You realize what the guy did. The bastard that you trusted, because his family was friends with your family. You realize what he did, in your own house, only around the corner and ten feet away from your sister. You could’ve said anything, whispered anything, and she would’ve heard. But, you didn’t.

. Instead, you let the bastard abuse you, never lifting a finger, never saying a word. Why, you ask? Why didn’t you do something? Because, he made it seem normal. And at eight years old, who doesn’t want to be normal? You were, after all, playing legos. And he was, after all, talking to you the whole time. And you did, after all, trust him.

How’s that, Nathan? Feel a little shitty yet? Shall I go on?

. Now, here you are. Thirteen. Having flashbacks every night. Nightmares. And things over the past five years are suddenly make sense. Insomnia. Depression. Anger. Pain. Anxiety. Lack of self-confidence. And guess What. It goes on two more years.

. Now, Nathan, how’s that? How are you feeling? Does this sound a little familiar? Except maybe the other way around? Yes, I thought so. So, Nathan, are you happy? Are you content with your decisions? I hope you are. That way, when I come hunt you down with a baseball bat and beat you in the crotch a few thousand times, it won’t be for something you regret. Not that you regretting it would stop me. Because it wouldn’t.

Because, Nathan, what the fuck. I would love to know what excuses you gave yourself. Are they the same ones I gave you while I was sitting at the bottom of the stairs letting you abuse me? Nathan, how the fuckdo you do that to an eight year old girl? Please, Nathan. Enlighten me. I would love to know.

. Fuck, Nathan. Fuck you. Like I’ve said, I hope you die a very slow and painful death. And when mercy is extended to you and you finally die, go to Hell. Go to Hell, Nathan, and be sexually abused for all eternity.

. Damn you, Nathan, you fucking bastard.

Sincerely,

The girl whom you made a victim, but is now a survivor


© Copyright 2020 M S I. All rights reserved.

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