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The Fuel

To The Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers

 

April 12, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I went to Planned Parenthood and talked to the nurses and they said I might have a very serious case of PID. They gave me some meds and I took them, but it's gotten worse because I'm pregnant. I'm suicidal. I want to die, Seth, and I don't want to tell anyone in case they will call the police on me. My Dad doesn't know and I have an appointment to abort in a couple of days. I'm staying away from school because the pain in my pelvic is so raw and rough on me that I can't even sit down. 

 

I got PID from Jackass Jack, because I'm not sexually active with anyone, and I suppose he's been sleeping with someone else, and I don't want to know who. I am so terrified right now because I"m worried I'm not going to get shot by an Italian at T-Bell but that my groin will grow bacteria and I will die of an infection (which is more realistic if you ask me). But, in all honesty, I wish Jack will get shot by an Italian in his bathroom on his toilet while taking a dump so all his shit will show. I'm really hurt by him because I wanted true love but I got an STI instead. I wish I can tell you what it feels like, because I can bet that you never knew how it feels to be me. I bet you're the type who gets the girls, but don't let them touch you because you're polished and high class, unlike me who is a daughter of an alcoholic who doesn't even remember my birthday. It was this past Sunday, and I spent it at Planned Parenthood. 

 

If I can express my emotions to you at this time, it would just be tears in a bottle. I read somewhere that God collects tears inside a bottle and that every soul has a jar and if it gets filled up, then He'll start another jar. Somehow that fact hurts me, because I believe it and I know God is watching, but I've screwed myself over and I bet Jack only has a tiny tube instead of a bottle because he's a prick and he doesn't care about me. He hung up and I can't call him anymore because I don't want to get sued by his rich parents for stalking him or harassment. 

 

Seth, I think I might have more than one jar of tears. I'm so worried because how many jars will I have to cry in my life time, if I'm this sick and raped by 17? Do you think I'll have a long life? I know you're not with me, but if you were in front of me, would you hurt yourself? I want to end it all. 

 

I can't handle it, so I'm taking the Zoloft prescribed by the Nurse Practitioner at PP,

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

April 13, 2010.

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I took a few Zoloft again and it made me feel sort of numb but I had a nice dream.

 

It was Valentine's Day, and I was in this dream in some unknown town in Europe, with you. It was the day of the LOVE CARNIVAL. All streets in the Europe, whether cobbled, pebbled, or paved filled with people, friends and families, especially children with heart pins on their proper attire of their choice to attend this carnival. We saw in social media that Japan and China, then Singapore and Russia were starting to do it too, but in their time zones. 

 
Each person nearby us received a little heart token to meet a real prince or a princess of their choice, with the condition to accept or reject any invitations with the eyes of love, and to honor each person offering their hearts. The scents of my favorite citrus fruits, and jasmine emanating in the air from all of the granulated tea satchets, were sold in every corner of the huge square blocks of the carnival.

 
There were open carriages with plump cupids with wings, holding signs with such beautiful messages, "Love, the non-perishable item!" Or "You are made to last forever!" There were roars from people with each message, and as each carriage passes by, sparkly heart confettis were thrown in the air, and it was a beautiful day.


People were meeting each other, and new friendships were formed. No one was left behind and nothing would harm anything; and Seth Meyers, in this dream, you were the King of the Carnival. There were Love Festivals, or Love Parades all across the world held in the cities of your choice. All heart shaped decors were out of stock, red balloons had a waiting list, and for some reason, there were kiwis everywhere! Everything sweet was at the carnival, and every kind of candy shops had a booth. All types of fairies were there, all kinds of fairy god-mothers, gothic fairies, pretty fairies, or tooth fairies walked around with their wands and their wings, and every woman wore a tiara. There was a violinist playing Vivaldi's Four Season, and later on, a guitarist, strumming Eric Clapton! Amor de machina!!!

 
I witnessed a miracle, because for one day, everyone was in love and everyone was kind to one another. Forgiveness won, and I was laughing and happy. No matter how much pain was done, for one whole day, everything spelled L-O-V-E!!! Of course, the hot air balloon had to be there with little puppies inside, ready for some soul to take them home, and yes, there was a cotton candy machine, complete with a clown who sold each bubblegum flavored cotton candy to someone like me, who was in love with King of the Carnival, Seth Meyers. For some reason, all of my missing pieces inside my heart from Jack's rape were gone, and my dreams came true.

 
Have you ever held a carnival like this before, Seth? Anywhere? Maybe you could do this for Valentine's day, just once a year, for everyone, everywhere!!!! LOVE, LOVE, LOVE!!!

 


I just want you to be on everything!!! With ZOLOFT coating,

WishesOoohWishes

 

 

April 14, 2010.

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I went, and I aborted. I want to die, because It feels like killing my own heart. I vomited and the nurses held my hand and the nurse practitioner who helped me abort told me that it was risky to have the baby because of the PID. I was severely depressed when the put me in sedation and they said that I came out with tears in my eyes.

 

I couldn't stop crying and the nurses wanted to take me to the emergency room, at a proper hospital, but I told them that I took a few days off from T-Bell and I would have to take a few days off some more, and I couldn't take a month off. If I were to be taken as inpatient, I'd have to be at the hospital for at least a couple of months and William will be telling everyone that I was sick and it was because of Jack. 

 

I called William, but I didn't tell him anything. I told him that I won't graduate this year and I will be dropping out. I won't go to prom and I won't go to any dances and I asked him to pray for me. He cried. He said, "Jack is wrong to you. What happened?" But, I couldn't tell him. William might be the only person I could trust, but I still couldn't tell him. I didn't even tell Dad. He asked me where I was the whole day because I came back in the evening, holding my stomach with a brown bag of meds and I inhaled them immediately, along with the anti-depressants. I wanted to dream like last night again. I wanted to dream that I was in a Love Carnival.

 

I want to dream, all the time. I want to go away. I want to start over, but I didn't know how. 

I needed to find you, and I wanted to go to New York with the bus or take the subway there. It's not far and I heard some people say that you walk to work. Maybe, we can have coffee and I can walk with you on your way to the Rockfeller Plaza and you can give me a pep-talk about boys and why they hurt me.

 

I wish you can tell me why Jack would rape me and not even talk to me afterwards. I wish you can tell me why Jack would hurt my life at all, knowing how much I was crazy about him. I wish you have all of the answers. I wish you were my big brother, maybe my life would have been better.

 

You're my hero, Seth, and my imaginary big brother,

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

April 15, 2010

 
To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers, of Saturday Night Live,

 
I believe, there is always a reason a person is placed in the middle of life. Sometimes, to harness the wind, and at times just to make you smile, even for a speck of time. You make me smile, Seth Meyers, and I thank you. I think I've met plenty people, but for some reason, as anyone could identify with, only a handful comes into your mind. Statistically, it is impossible for anyone to be in anyone's mind at the same time, especially for a poignant purpose in life. This role is not for just anyone to fill, and this person may be an Oscar winner of an actor, but people will know their real characters, it comes with time. I believe in you, Seth Meyers, and your character, although in public view, you could make anyone smile. Congratulations, you are a beautiful comedian and a gorgeous actor. I am extremely proud.

 
If you are wondering who the people who harness the wind for me, are? They are the people who are in my position, the people who love you. They don't know how profound their lives are, because I understand how they admire and their reason for inspiration. I think, sometimes we need a good person to look at, and to remind ourselves, that we are as tasteful, delightful, and beautiful as they are. There is comfort in affinity and also, we sometimes just want to smile, and laugh, OUT LOUD!!! Sometimes, that's all we need.

 
There are others, the ones who just make you cry and fill you with the fuzziest, warmest, and most genuine heart felt emotion to move you. I want to be one of those people, and I wish for others to learn and become that person too, as I am learning myself. I want to make a difference in my own life, and I am happy there were others who did make a difference in my life, without even knowing. There is always a reason for everything, and if there aren't, maybe the reason will show up with time. I hope all those reasons are so good, that everyone could make it in life, just like you, Seth Meyers. Maybe, out of the millions of people who love you, someone will learn to be as profound. Then they will be the inspiration for someone else, as you are to me.

 
I know I want to.

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

April 16, 2010.

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I stayed home and Dad was upset because I haven't been to school. I told him that I needed time and space and to take my time to think and he lost it. He threw the gin bottle in the sink and it shattered. He said his life was a piece of shit and he didn't know how to fix it. Dad was afraid that I'm turning into him. He said he wants me to go to college, but I don't want to right now. I'm not in the right mindset.

 

I just aborted and I needed time to think. I'm still bleeding out of my womb.

 

If my Dad threw me out of the house, I'm going to take all of my money in my bank account and go to New York CIty and stay at a shelter somewhere. 

 

My stomach feels like it has a screwdriver stirring my intestines. It hurts and I can't walk. I never knew my first time having sex would be at Breckenridge and I was going to be raped because of it and had to abort. I think those jars of tears are filling up fast, Seth. I have been crying, and it has been really hard on me. I got an anxiety attack and a panic attack because I didn't know how to control my fears. I had a dream that Jack was going to take me to court if I reported him. 

 

You probably think of me as a coward for not reporting, but I wish you knew how rich Jack was compared to me. Plus, I asked for it, and I got rape because I was turning him on. I deserved it, Seth. I'm the fuck up. I took an extra Zoloft tonight, and if I don't wake up, you'll know why. 

 

Thank God I would never send these letters to you. You'd probably report me, too. 

 

I am garbage,

WishesOoohWishes.

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To The Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers

April 5, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

It's really more than revulsion of life that I am writing out these letters to you, but for the purpose of healing. Who knew that writing is coping? And to love a writer like you, Sethy, is bliss and candies.

 

I hope you realize the power of your influence on my heart, because you've moved my life from the opprobrium to subtle glory. It is not about my faulty ideals anymore, it is more of release to gain strength, because somehow, I can empty out all of those bad horoscope readings on my past and replace it with some good astrology.

 
There is more depth to me now, because after I release all of my angers on paper about my misfortunes, I feel the energies of those who've experienced similar dramas. It's all there, and I have to just take those energies out to replace them with some form of wisdom of profound truth, from what I've learned through my own disgraces. I am so grateful you are not mad at me, otherwise I would feel sad about my life, if I my heart throb is actually disgusted by me. You are so patient Seth Meyers, and the more I write to you, the more I realize you are forever gorgeous and I am forever in love with you.

 

Don't worry about what others will think about you because some high school kid is nuts about you, when I'm underage and you're over the thirties hump. I'm just an old soul and I feel like I've known you all of my life. I used to think I you look like an old neighbor names Udi, but he's long gone and married now and he's nothing like you.

 

I feel better today but there are still bouts of anger and it hurts me. I still have thoughts of the bleachers and my Dad is still not here and Brenda sometimes comes around. But, everything feels fleeting. Everything, even life. I feel like my life will end early, because at this rate, after the rape and the episode at Planned Parenthood, I'm going to be shot somehow at T-Bell by an Italian. Don't get mad at me because of these morbid thoughts, because what kind of positive moments in life have I had lately? None.

 

In pain, truthfully,

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

April 6, 2010

 

To The Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night LIve,

 

I want to be like William, minus the facial hair and chubby body. He told me today that Seth, you're his hero too, and I immediately love him as a brother. I gave him a hug and told him that he's my friend for life.  He then told me about this group that he saw my Dad's friend, Sam, is in, The Knights of the Columbus. William told me that if I needed his help and Sam's help, to come to him, and to ask him for help. 

 

I don't want to tell anyone about the assault and as a matter of fact, Jack, is no in my mind unless I get symptoms of my depression again. It hurts when I get it because I can't stop crying and I hurl and vomit. I don't tell anyone and I try to slice my wrist with my nails, but we all know that's not real, so I just play it cool and let it go. I don't let anyone tell me what to do anymore. I don't trust anyone and even my Dad doesn't care. I have to make sure rent is paid and we have a roof over our head, because Dad hasn't been around lately and neither has Brenda. I'm worried something is wrong and he's going to be depressed and lose his job this time. I don't want to be homeless.

 

I tried to speak to India, the girl who told me about Jack and how she knew. I tried to ask a couple of people and I called Mabel, to see if she'd know. I still hate all the princesses of my high school. They have everything and I work at T-Bell. I was dumped by Jack and those girls are virgins and they've never even been kissed. 

 

Hindsight, I regret it all, Sethy. I regret wanting to be kissed by Jack and wanting to sleep with him. I regret wanting to have sex with him, and wanting to be a part of his life. I regret everything. Sometimes the sorrow is so full over my head that I can't handle it. 

 

I don't know India's number and I don't know if anyone will talk to me about Jack. I can't call Mabel, she'll tell my homeroom teacher or the principal and I'll get Jacked. No pun intended.

 

Lost for words,

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

April 7, 2010

 

To The Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I thought about the millionaires of the world, and how satisfied they are with their lives, with a degree or without a degree. Are they satisfied with who they are and what they've done, especially after their pursuits of happiness? Do they all have true love?

 

Have they made themselves, whom they become in all honesty? Have they fumbled the ways of life, on the road to success? Were they millionaires by birth? The truth is, I am the millionaire of love, and I suppose that love was what I want to also seek, but I'm a poor woman in faith. I have none, and i don't think I will survive this life.

 

Maybe because my dream, hopes, and its level of success does not have a monetary value, because it is priceless in comparison to ambitious money. It is measured and based on my personal desires of having a family, beautiful career, and lasting friendships. Does this ambition come with a picket fence with a rose garden and a Mercedes Benz? Why not? Why not go beyond and reach the sky?

 

Besides, this scale is an innate gift, the one my Dad told me to develop in life.  Yes, I think it could be a measure of the education I can gain, or naturally and through nurture. This is why going to school is best for me, and I am happy to know I am not the only one with this desire, hope, or measurable scales of ambition. But, with Jack in high school....education is a misfortune at this time, Seth.

 

The other girls at school have some form of a walnut like brain inside their psyche, but me...I'm just a walnut. They may not be a pistachio like me, but they have the same level of peanuty flavor, with a slightly salty tasty to them. Some people have this flavor of opinions from that walnut of a brain they have, so raw that's perfectly tasty, and noticeably delicious to its element. It is unmistakably them, and it is their signature taste, with a delicious presentation for accompaniment. They have someone who cares for them. My life is non-existent to a lot of people, and the only person who said he cared was William and The Planned Parenthood nurses. I'm just a plain nut, and the pistachio dream is unreal, Sethy. 

 

I want to be this exceptionally rare beauty, until the world is enchanted through me. This desire only comes out when I'm writing to you, because in reality, I am a huge mess and I'm going nuts.

 

Wondered if you wrote love notes in class,

WishesOoohWishes ------ß--@

 

 

April 8, 2010

 

To The Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I called Jack. He hung up. I vomited and Dad heard me. Surprisingly he was home and it seems like he was having a serious talk with Brenda. I know Dad is supposed to be sober now, but I've seen him and Brenda having a couple of beers sometimes, and I don't write down when, but I know that's not right. But, who am I to tell him what to do? I'm sick myself.

 

Jack was all inside my chest today, and school was a Jackass, no pun intended. I'm tired of going there and I want to leave the planet. I don't want to stay at school, and I want to search for you. I want to visit you at the Rockefeller Plaza and meet you in person and kiss you on your lips, even if you're sick. I won't tell anyone if you reject me, even. That's how crazy I am about you. I know your girlfriend is beautiful and I predict you will have three kids, two boys and a girl. It's 2010 now, and I'm not sure how long until you're going to get hitched and make babies, but I'm going to make a go at it. I don't know what to do with my rape trauma. Everyday it is worse. I vomit all the time and I'm not eating. I don't want to, and I don't want to go back to the Planned Parenthood, they'll just call my counselour.

 

I'm having a nervous breakdown I think, is that possible at 17? I'm not sure if this is what it is called? Is my nerves taking the best of me and me crying in a fetal position in the girl's bathroom a nervous breakdown? Because that was all day today at school, and I escaped again. I ran out of the school double doors and I didn't look back. That place is hell on Earth. I shouldn't have gone. I want to leave!

 

Planning to drop out,

WishesOoohWishes

 

 

April 9, 2010

 

To The Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

If I was an "I Love you," in bubble letters, I would be the colors of Royal Blue Letters with hearts all across the words Love. It symbolizes my royal heart of a princess and the depth of love all throughout the color lines. William asked me why I wanted to date Jack or to have a relationship with him.  My answer is because baby lobsters can only mate once when it grows up, so it better have the perfect match.

 

I wish people could just see how I love them, and at times they probably won't understand why I love the way I love. But, love is love and people are stupid.

 

Some people want me to love them a certain way, and I would try to do so, but the fact is, I've gone through what I call, …shit hole.

 

For example: there were letters I wrote to you, Seth, and it was all angry words. All SHH8T this, and all F6%! That…but they never made it in print, because I wanted to say the things I say without restrictions. Then I realized, its just like the way people want me to love them a certain way, and I don't understand. If we were to meet, I know you would want me to write nice things about people, not shit this and shit that because I'll get sued and you'll get sued for teaching me flagrant things. But, I'm in a shit hole. So I'm writing shit-holish things.

 

So, the stresses comes out and the frustration level rose to headache level. I just wish I could control every thing to minty lavender and happy basil all the time., when I'm writing to you, but I was so hurt that I could not understand my own love for you. I just kept writing and writing verbage I know you wouldn't like. As all writers know, it was okay and it will be edited out later, but with me, because I'm not a writer, I'm writing these shit down and I don't care.

 

It isn't so perfect with the ways of my life, Seth. I hope you don't care about my deep emotional traumas.  I felt it was always my fault, these overwhelming emotions, because I was the cause of the rape and Jack was just following his nerves. 

 

I want to make it stop, this emotions and headaches, to leave lonely planet to make the heartaches stop. I wish you are here to comfort me, and I wish you are my neighbor. Then the cries ceases to tear, and my heart heals itself to love.

 

I was just trying to heal and love, but there were cacophonies and commotions in the background ruining moments with or without Diet Coke.  I wish I could explain this further, but my heart is breaking and I wish I have some people back in my life again.

 

Unconditionally a loving fan,

WishesOoohWishes

 

 

April 10, 2010

 

To The Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

My Dad has a rough night, and he said he broke it off with Brenda because his AA Group noticed he's been doing wrong and drinking after work.  Sam came by and told us to seek a family counselour. He said he's sober now and he's doing good with The Knights of the Columbus and asked my Dad to join. My Dad said, "What a be a crazy prick with pins on their shirts? No, thanks, bud. I gotta go to AA on my own."

 

I don't blame him, and I don't blame Sam either. I wanted to tell William to stop telling Sam what to do because I know why William tells Sam to help out, it's because William is afraid I'm going to drop out and become a homeless teen. I'm not going that route. I"m going to see if I can do better. I'm turning this shit around. I'm tougher than they think. 

 

I'm trying to find out what I can do with myself. I'm really messed up, Seth. My headaches are monstrous and I'm not on the pill. I'm worried I really am pregnant. I'm hoping my period stays regular. I haven't checked. If I get pregnant, I'm not sure what to do with myself. I'm sick to my stomach and all I can think about is being with Jack and being in a marriage with him and everything is perfect and we have a career and a dog and two kids. I'm psycho I think. I'm thinking of how perfect life would be with him, when in reality is that Jack raped me.

 

I'm going to stop and just watch SNL. I will write tomorrow or in a day or so. I'm so sick, I can't write.

 

I'm delusional and I feel sick,

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

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To The Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers

March 30, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 


I feel better now. I felt so alone last night and I wanted to end my life, but I thought of all the people who would show up at my funeral and it was even more depressing that I started laughing. It would be just a man on a piano and my Dad, singing "I will never love again," and who knows...maybe William or Mabel might come but knowing their background, their parents won't let them go to a funeral at their age.

I thought of the things inside my heart and the potential I possess, and I wonder what it would amount to if I only applied myself. I work at T-Bell very well but I don't do well under pressure at school. I think I'm Jack crazy but isn't that normal?

 

I wanted to run away last night and to come see you in New York, and to just stop school, stop work, and stop living in this house and live on my own and find my dream. What is my dream, and even if I know, I don't know if I would be able to make it. I want to see if I would, but I don't even know what I want. At least you knew about what you want out of life at an early age, but I don't. I just know I want to be loved and to have true love, and someone who holds me close and never let go. Does everyone know what they want at 16 years old?

 

I observe the people around me and most adults are married, but my Dad isn't. It troubles me. He had problems and both of my parents had problems, and now I have problems. I think that's why I wanted to end it all, but I won't. I promise. I feel like my life is a long shot to success. I don't know what to do.

 

I'm going to think of a way out,

WishesOoohWishes

 


March 31, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I wish everyone are pomegranates, because it's one of my favorite fruits. Sometimes people are not as sweet as they seem to be. Who are they? It is okay to be smart, but to become so ruthless, it all seems so worthless. Jack for instance. I am escaping my thoughts of him and pretending I'm next to you, eating a pomegranate and drinking and Izze.

 

I think you need to write a book, Seth. I want happy, for everybody, especially me! You can describe what type of fruit you are and I will think of you as the sweetest kinds. I need to believe that people are good, and some are inspirational, that's why I look up to you and love seeing you on television. I escape through you. Other stars are okay and I see a lot of talents, that some give their lives to reach it, but sometimes people lose their way, and maybe that's where the bitterness comes from. Maybe they are all bitter to begin with because someone was mean to them, the way Jack was mean to me.

 

I am so happy you gave your life to make people laugh, because happiness helps everyone at any levels in life. You help me to release several moments to smile and laugh out loud in a day, and that could increase the life expectancy for anybody. This is how I think you saved me. Can you save my life some more and write a book to love me back?

 

In your book, you should describe if you were ever the long shot. The person without a chance for the one dream he has, because as a woman, my gender alone could reduce my chance in life. But this is 2010, and I want to read a book that makes me laugh, especially because there were probably moments of "long-shots" in your life, which could empower me.

 

What was it that made the difference in your life? Who is your mentor? Was there a blind side? How did you move your life from a kid to a man?

Was there an "I don't know," or an "I don't care," or an "I miss you" in your life? How many defining moments do you remember? Do you listen to every voice you hear? Or do you take every chance you got, because you know how to make something out of nothing. Where do you shop? What do you eat? I LOVE POMEGRANATES!!

 

Do you know love when you see it? How do you love? Have you ever had to admit you've lost something so dear? How much did you give up? Are there a bunch of words you hate? What's your anger language? What's your habitual sin? How did you break your sins apart and tear down its walls? How do you believe in yourself, in this world when sometimes long-shots like me live in uncertainties.

What if there is construction in life, and all the lanes are closed and you will be fined if you stop? What could people do to succeed when the talent is there, but the opportunity is scarce and barren. Who do you listen to?

 

I suppose I want to know because I am the long shot, and I want to believe. I look up to heaven, but there are times when evidence is something I still need to feel. We can be a bunch of long shots in life, but some are just so inspirational and joyful that everyone just want to feel their hearts, and be inspired. You maybe that person for me, the inspiration, and I think you made me laugh so much that you probably increased my life expectancy for another 100 years. You are so nice! But, I know that long-shots are sometimes the best people in life, because they are the heart felt surprise you'll find unforgettable.

 

Could you write a book for me? Think of it as a science project!
 
WishesOoohWishes

 


April 1, 2010.

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,


I finally came back to school. It's a Wednesday, the day when the Earth moves under my feet every time. Do you remember that song, Seth? I found out from Brenda, because she was born in 1980. I was born in 1994 and I actually feel so much older than 16. It feels surreal to have had so much happened to you at such a young age, but that's what Chlamydia does to people, I guess.

 

I'm okay for now. I don't want to end my life because I want to talk to Jack still and I don't want my Dad to be alone. I know he has Brenda but I don't want him to relapse back to alcoholism.

 

I took the meds Jasmine gave me and I spoke to my counselor and they both said something similar. Study. That's all they said. They told me the only way out was through education and it gives opportunities. I'm shit out of luck, Seth. I'm failing every class I am taking. Math is crap to me, and so is English and History. Who cares what people did in the past? I want to get on out of the past of my life, and I damn well don't want to know theirs.

 

The only thing I liked was "Honesty is the best policy," by Abraham Lincoln. Did he think that up all by himself, you think, Seth? There aren't a lot of people back then when he was alive was there? They're all probably enslaved or in the army. At least that's what William told me.

 

I talked to William at school today and talked to him about PP and suicide. He was flabbergasted. I love that word "Flabbergasted." It feels like a fart that just escaped out of your butt. But yeah, William was flabbergasted. He told me about being in the dark. No shit, I was in the dark and I didn't need William to tell me but he did anyway.

 

William told me that when a person is in the dark, that's all they can see and they can't see a way out. I sometimes don't know if William is smart or not because what he told me was obvious to anyone. But anyway, he said something about how everything you do is wrong and the only thing that can take out of the dark is the light. Again....I'm not sure if William should solve anyone's problems anytime soon, but it was good to know that he was being obvious. I think it does help me a little. I mean....I want to see the light too, because apparently I'm darkness, and I think William is trying to say that he is the light to my darkness. I nodded the whole time, but my heart and mind was confused because I don't know what he's alluding to. No one ever cared to say these things, but now that someone did, I'm not all that impressed.

 

 
What light was I missing, Seth? Should I start reading self help books and such? Why??? I am going to take meds and go to school and try things out for myself. I'm going to wing it. I don't want to tell anyone I'm taking meds and I'm only taking them because my counselor prescribed them to me after my Dad told that he wants me on them when Mom left. I'm screwed up, Seth. I don't even know how to begin to introduce myself to you when we meet.

 

I hope we will meet,

WishesOoohWishes

 


April 2, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I couldn't stop crying this morning. I don't know why. I can't write to you today, Seth. I just cried and cried as if a fountain of tears burst from the back of my brains and out of my eyes. My mind was full of the visions of the rough sex that happened under the bleachers with Jack. I'm scared.

 

I want to tell Dad but he would be angry and I know he would hurt Jack. I know Jack will get shot and my Dad will go to jail. I didn't tell William or Mabel. I saw them at school, but I kept quiet. I did not look anyone in the eyes. The kids at school stared at me, but I dodged them. I saw them whisper but I stopped caring. I know they would call me names like 'slut,' or 'whore.' I know they all laugh at me, but I'm going to be tough and still keep going.

 

I'm worried about my heart, however. It feels broken and I never had a broken heart before. Jack is my first everything. My first kiss, my first boyfriend, and the sad thing is....I know I am probably the last thing in his mind. He's the first thing in my heart and mind when I come to school, but I know I mean nothing to him. It hurts that I gave my all to someone who would never care for me. Are adults the same, Seth? They must be smarter right?

 

William tried to find me when I was walking home. He said he met my Dad's friend from his Knights of the Columbus group. He said that they are becoming liberal. I don't know anything about them. I wanted to slap him. I want him to stop talking to me. I hate his talks about Knights of the Columbus and the light, and good side of life, and how he wants me to do good. No one is good. I thought Jack was good, but it's not true. I think William is in some kind of cult or something. He's crazy. He told me that I have to keep up with my meds and counseling, but I think he's the one that's getting worse. Who is he to judge me?

 

Mabel is a bitch. She has everything. She has a car, a good home, she's pretty and she doesn't have to work for a living to make ends meet. I have to pay the rent and the bills, and my money from T-Bell goes to Dad and we pool them to make sure we have a place to live. Mabel doesn't have to worry about that. She's a bitch.
  

I'm really hating them, those perfect people. I'm really starting to see the light that William talked about. The light shows me that everything is bullshit. This life is bullshit, and the thing that happened to me under the bleachers is bullshit. I'm going to just try to solve things with my counselor. Then take my meds. That's all I need.

 

I'm superwoman,

WishesOoohWishes

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To The Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers

March 21, 2010

 


To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 


Seth, I tried to watch SNL, and tried to write to you, but it's been tough on my brain. A part of me disappeared the time Jack was rough on me. I tried calling him on my cell phone but he didn't pick up. I didn't go to school, and I didn't go to work. I didn't want to see anyone. I wanted to stay underneath my blanket because it was warm and comforting. I wished I could speak to Jack about why he did that to me.

 

Seth, I wished you could talk to Jack for me, to ask him what happened and why he hurt me last Thursday. The house was a mess. It s a two bedroom in Jersey City and there is a bodega nearby. We have a couch and a fridge and an armoire in front of the couch where the television is and that's where I watch SNL. Dad and Brenda tried to clean up but they said I caused to much mess for them to clean up so they stopped cleaning up after me.

 

I will lay low and won't tell anyone about what happened with Jack. I won't tell Dad because he would just freak out and I won't be able to stay here anymore. I wish you live next door to me, as my neighbor, so I could confide in you and you could help me rationalize my thoughts. The past few days, I dreamt of accidents and I was thrown out of my Spanish Class for being myself because Miss Pestian hated me. In my dream, she called me a slut, and so did the rest of the class and I tried to calm down but I they pushed me down and kicked my ribs.

 

I woke up drenched in tears and I didn't want to get out of bed.

I felt a burning sensation in my pelvic but I didn't to bring up Jack to anyone. It felt like rape, Seth. I tried to not think about it, but that's what it felt like. I wish you could help me. It felt so rough and brutal to me, and he kicked me to get up and left. He didn't even say he loved me or tried to comfort me.

 

Seth, what was it? Was I raped? What should I do, Seth?

 


March 22, 2010

 


To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 


Seth, this morning I went to school. Dad got a phone call from one of my teachers, and he knocked on my door this morning to wake me up.
 
"Why did you skip school on Thursday and Friday?" Dad asked me.

 

"I didn't want to go. I wanted to just stay home," I replied.

 

"Get up and go to school. Or at least go to work," said Dad.

 

I woke up and went to school.

 

No one knew about what happened and I dodged Jack because I didn't want to get hurt again. Seth, if you could hear me through my heart's wishes, please send me help. Be my friend, Seth, and I want to be your best friend forever.

 

The kids at school looked me in the eye, but I looked away. I felt the world's burden on my shoulders as I walked down the hallway and in every class. I didn't pay attention and just looked to the teachers and kept quiet. The teachers never called on me, the sick girl in the corner with nothing to say. They didn't care and I didn't want to say anything to anyone.

 

I felt judged by the eyes of the world, although no one said anything at all. Seth, I felt like a specimen under a microscope, except I was shredded to pieces by Jack and everyone around the agar plate just looked at me condescendingly.

 

Perhaps Jack didn't mean what he said to me underneath the bleachers, and he didn't want to hurt me. I tried calling him, but he didn't pick up.

 

I hated my life, Sethy. Tears kept falling and I tried to get out of the bathroom after lunch, but I sat on the toilet alone and sobbed. My heart was broken and I wished I could leave this city, this school, and I didn't want to tell Dad.

 


I wished I could start over with life,

WishesOoohWishes.
 

 

March 23, 2010

 


To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 


I went to work and I didn't care. I wanted to earn a living more than going to school and being barraged by stares of the pupils of Monarch High. Mabel kept calling, and if I told her anything,

 

I was worried she would say something to the teachers or the principal or other people and I would be hurt. She was always the staunch keeper of the law, and she never really liked Jack. So, I didn't say anything to anyone and just went to T-Bell in the morning and asked my manager if I could work there for eight hours.

 

"I don't know what's wrong in your life, Mary, but you sure love Taco Bell. I hope the love is real," he said.

 

The Manager for my T-Bell is Trevor and he jokes about me loving the burrito line because I always jumped at the chance of keeping it together for the customers. I was the fastest burrito and taco builder in the joint. I earned a badge, a purple ribbon, of the same purple as the Taco Bell logo.

 

"I promise I won't waste anything," I told him.

 

He smiled, and said, "Drake called in sick , so I'd have you start with the drive-thru line, and work your way to the line."

 

"Thank you," I said, holding my palms together to him.

 

I stayed there from 8 in the morning until 7 in the evening, and Dad hardly noticed. He was with Brenda and I saw her whine to my Dad before for affection, so I hope they have fun and not bother me. I didn't want to be the third wheel.

 

I worked through those hours and was really happy because I accomplished something. I did my hours and earned some money at the same time. I walked home happy and I only had a cramp in my gut, but I ignored it.

 

I will ignore everything, until I feel better.

 


Only writing to Sethy,

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

 

March 24, 2010

 


To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I wish I was superhuman and could just fly to see you, Seth Meyers, to be my best friend, my neighbor, my confidant, because when I think of you, although life was a struggle from not having a soul to love, somehow my soul found solace. For that, I am transferring all of my love to you, to forget about my struggles for a smidge. I skipped school again and I didn't care. T-Bell was more fun and I could day dream all day amongst burritos and mild sauce. Seth Meyers, you turned the chili picante inside of me into twisted crispy churros, all cinnamon sweet.

 
These heart breaks are just experiences, and I hope they will pass its course and skip my life, forever thereon; because I don't want struggling forms of anything in my future. Seth, if you were my best friend, I would tell you everything and I would tell you to speak to Jack and ask him why he did what he did.

 
Last night, I cried to pieces that my body shook and I jolted several times and I felt it might be a seizure. I wanted to tell Dad, but I wasn't sure if he would send me to the hospital and I wouldn't know what the cause of this illness would be.

 

I really love you now, because you are the only thing keeping me sane. The fairytale I wished for came to life with you although it is not real, and only through the television. I would watch you on Saturday Night Live, my favorite show, and on the website, and having you through those devices comforted me and helped mend my heart.

 

I don't mind seeing you through television at all, because I know you are real and although you don't know me, I love you for who you are, because I could tell you are amazing inside out. I know you appreciate this love, although menial to so many people, this love is succor to me. My real heart was torn, and torment was its punishment, until I saw you and fire lit up my life again. It was like liberation day for any country when I saw you, and you could laugh, but just appreciate my honesty.

 

Seth Meyers, I will always be in love with you,

WishesOoohWishes (a.k.a Mary – in case one day I dare to come visit you and show up to you in person). 

 


March 25, 2010

 


To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 


I had a panic attack. I think that's what it was. I stayed in bed all day because Dad didn't come home last night. He must be at Brenda's and I was happy he stayed there because I didn't want him to see me this way.

 

I sobbed uncontrollably and I wanted to leave the planet. I wanted out of this life and I hated myself because I let Jack hurt me. He was rough, Seth. Jack hurt me. I don't know what to do.

 

Sethy. I want out. But, that would mean I won't have you in my life again. Loving you keeps me alive. You are the only thing that holds me together right now. I only wanted to see you on Saturday Night and that is my reason to live right now. Seth, I wish you are here. I am so scared and I am hurting, in my soul, in my heart, in my body, and in my mind. I might have exacerbated my depression.

 
If you were a father, Seth, would you want a daughter who was raped. I think I was raped, Sethy. I didn't want to admit it, but I think I was. I don't know what to do. Please help me, Seth.


I wish you are here,

WishesOoohWishes

 

 

March 26, 2010

 


To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 


Last night I wanted to take all of my Dad's depression pills and end it, Seth.

 

I wanted to tell Dad, but he was at work and I didn't want to call him because he told me to go to sleep when he was working. When he came home, I pulled my covers and pretended I was okay, although my eyes were swollen and my pillow was wet from my snot and sobs.

 

I took the week off school. I didn't care, and when my Dad got the call this morning, he told them that I was sick. He came in to check on me and opened the door slightly, and asked, "Mary, why aren't you at school?"

 

"Took the week off, Jack broke it off," I told him. Jack did. He never said it directly, but he did hurt me.

 

I was really happy Dad asked me, because I thought he didn't care, but he asked. He closed the door and went to the kitchen. I heard him cooking breakfast and I pulled my blanket over me and tried to sleep the day away. I didn't want to live like this.

 


No more strength, Seth.

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

March 27, 2010

 


To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 


At work I focused on the drive-thru orders, and sobbed a little bit, but I didn't sob the way I did last night. There was a tinge of pain in my abdomen, and I didn't care, it was probably because Jack was rough on me.

 

I didn't think I would be so fearful, but in my gut something told that I needed help and I was in trouble. I didn't want to speak to anyone about this. I was scared I would be hurt if someone knew about Jack hurting me. Was it rape, Sethy? It felt rough and it felt forced and I didn't say he could have sex underneath the bleachers that way. I wanted to just kiss him and get back together, but he said I wanted it. I supposed I did, but I also didn't.

 

The whole time at work, I had a swirl in my abdomen and it was twisting and felt hard inside, like a knife was in my stomach all the way to my neenoo-neenoo.

 

Seth, you know women stuff, but you're no doctor. I might have to go ask someone, but I didn't know who. I asked my manager, and he said Planned Parenthood takes Medicaid, for kids without insurances, and he advised me to go there. I will go tomorrow.

 

I'm sick,

WishesOoohWishes

 

 

March 28, 2010

 


To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 


Sethy, I walked to Planned Parenthood, it was about 5 miles away. It wasn't in a pretty neighborhood, and I was scared about walking in. I wished you were here to be my big brother and held my hand, even just to sign up to check on my health. I've never had a well-women exam before. It was a physical, they called it, but even as a 16 year-old, I've never been to one.

 

The Nurse Practitioner's name was Jasmine, and she was young, African American, and she was nice. She asked me if I had a reason for coming in, such as unplanned pregnancy. I told her that I had rough sex, and she said," I see."

 

"Was it your first time?" asked Jasmine.

 

"No, it was my second. The first time was in his villa in Breckenridge, when we went snow-boarding," I told her.

 

"How rough is 'rough sex'?" asked Jasmine.

 

I looked to the ground, and described to her what happened. I saw tears rolled down her cheeks, and I panicked, "No…it's not. Don't say it. I wasn't raped."

 

Jasmine closed her eyes, and breathed in, and said," There is a fine line between sex and rape, and rough sex is not sex at all. It was rape, Mary."

 

I closed my eyes with my palms and couldn't stop crying. I panicked and I told her, "I can't be raped. I'm only 16, and I can't be a rape victim."

 

Jasmine stood up, and went outside for a moment, and walked back inside with a pamphlet about signs of abuse and another one about rape.

 

"Why did you come here today?" Jasmine asked me.

 

"Pain in my abdomen," I said. "It just came yesterday, and I didn't have my period."

 

"Let's get on with the well women exam, and I can do some tests to see what's wrong, including a pregnancy test. We will wait for the results in an half hour. Just stay calm and be patient with me," Jasmine said.

 

"Thank you, Jasmine," I replied.

 

The stir-ups didn't scare me, but the speculum did. I wasn't prepared for the pain, and I was scared about being aware about it, but not as scared as when I had sex with Jack.

 

The process took fifteen minutes, with Jasmine pressing my insides and then my abdomen.

 

"I will take some tests with these slides, but from these physical tests, so far, your pelvic and abdomen are inflamed and perhaps your fallopian tubes inside. Signs of Pelvic Inflammatory Disease from Chlamydia," Jasmine said. "Also, I want to tell you that we have plans and guidance for teens here. You don't have to be afraid."

 

I looked to the ceiling and my eyelids closed and more tears came down to my temples.

 

Sethy, I believe I've ruined my own life. This whole time, I tried to work hard to help my Dad, and I'm trying to have true-love with Jack, but I was hurt by him.

 

Jasmine said I was to wait for the test results in an hour, so I had to wait in the waiting room. There were other young couples there, and I saw them and they were kissing. Jack and I never went to a clinic before we had sex. I trusted him.

 

I closed my eyes and sobbed again and got up off my seat and walked out. I couldn't stand it.

 

I was about a mile away, when Jasmine called me as she ran from Planned Parenthood, to fetch me.

 

"Take these," Jasmine said. "It will help you."

 

She gave me a small pill bottle and told me to take one on the spot. I did. She walked away, and looked back towards me, "It happens all the time. Don't be afraid. You can come back to us if you need help," she said.

 

I nodded. I saw Jasmine walked away and thought of how kind and caring she was to me. I didn't ask her to come and fetch me, but she did.

 

This whole thing hurts so bad, Sethy. I felt guilty and sad, because I tried to kiss him near the bleachers, to get back together. I wished I hadn't done that.

 

Sethy, I have a feeling I might die early. I've already gotten this STD, and I made wrong choices. I'm scared that I will always make the wrong choice. Seth, I wish you were here with me.

 


I wish you were my big brother,

WishesOoohWishes.

 


March 29, 2010

 


To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 


I took a week off, Sethy and I was glad I did. I didn't have anyone to speak to about Jack. I tried talking to Dad, and he came home with Brenda, but he was drunk again. Brenda said they had a birthday celebration for her last night on Sunday. I thought they were friends from church, but it turns out they met somehow from an Alcoholic Anonymous group. I wanted to ask Dad about all this, but he was too busy and too drunk to speak to me.

 

When I was asleep, I heard noises from the kitchen and Brenda was trying to make coffee.  

 

"Is Dad okay?" I asked.

 

"He's just happy we're together. We haven't touched alcohol since we met. A drop of it won't hurt just to celebrate my birthday," said Brenda.

 

"I should've known you'd be lax about this," I said, with tears in my eyes. I knew Brenda wasn't strong enough, but who was I to talk. I was raped because I couldn't keep my hands off Jack.

 

"It's okay, Mary," said Brenda. "Your Dad is a grown man. He can handle it."

 

I looked to the stove in front of me and stared at the space between the two stove tops and breathed in deep and exhaled out an immense tension from inside my soul.

 

I didn't see them awake this morning when I went to school. I showered and took myself to a good walk to Monarch High. I was hoping I could stop by a bodega, but it was still closed at 7 am in the morning. I just wanted a chilled Frappucino, but I didn't get to have one. I walked on to the next block and saw a McDonalds and walked in and got myself a hot coffee with 5 creams. It was the least I could have.

 

"Hey, didn't I see you at Planned Parenthood the other week?" said a voice from behind me. I turned around and saw a girl with pink highlights and a beanie, walking beside me.

 

"My name is India," she said. "I just work at the front desk there. I hope everything is okay."

 

I nodded, and replied, "Thanks."

 

I walked on and hoped she wouldn't follow, but she did. My heart beating and worried about the potential rumors and gossips, and all types of heartaches stabbing my back. "Please don't say anything to anyone," I told her.

 

"No, no, no that's not me at all," said India. "I just wanted to say hello. I go to Monarch, too."

 

She smiled and her pink hair softens her dark eyes. The rest of her hair was black but I saw tendrils of pink underneath her beanie, as if she was an anime girl.

 

"I worked there since freshmen year. I'm a senior. You're Mary, right? Jack's girl?" asked India. "I remember you."
 
"Not anymore, we broke up," I replied. Trying to hide my tears.

 

"It happens," said India. "I'm sorry. I hope you know that you'll meet someone else, right?"

 

I turned to her, and smiled. She just knew how to say the right things, and had the sweetest touch.

 

"Why did you go to PP?" India asked. 

 

"Personal, sorry," I said. 

 

"There is a rumor, that Jack's been sleeping around. I wanted to caution you," said India. "Guys...they think they're all smooth, but we girls know to watch out for each other."

 

I cried inside but without tears outside. I kept walking and walked to Monarch when I decided to go to PP today, and find out the test results. 

 

"Hey, India. I have an appointment at PP, so go ahead without me," I said.

 

"Hey, I can call for you," India said. "I don't think it matters, but you can also just walk in."

 

I stayed silent.

 

"Hey, listen, there are a lot of us without guidance. PP helps too, they have some programs for teens with no mental health counseling and they can help with that and also help you in case you get pregnant. Not everything resorts to abortion," said India. "They make sure they have the right choice for you, is all."

 

I cried and sobbed inside and I felt my chest jolt and my tears began to flow out.

 

India hugged me, eventhough I didn't ask for a hug.

 

"I'm not sure what to tell you, but if you need to find out, right now is the best time," said India.

 

I turned around and walked about 6 miles it felt like. I was so broken inside and wanted to puke but I kept swallowing it in. I did vomit in the middle of the way and just went behind the bushes. I was scared I was pregnant and I was scared I had PID. I ignored the STD stuff at school when they taught it during sex education, and it wasn't even sex education, it was biology. They had some nurse from the general hospital come and talk about it. Then the state department of health came with some samples and pictures of what that looked like. They said it was supposed to make us feel scared and wanted to give us precaution, but I was so in love with Jack that I just wanted to jump him. I guess it made me aware but it would have been better if they had some guy with HIV come to speak to us. That will scare the shit out of me.

 

When I got to Planned Parenthood, Jasmine wasn't there. The nurse came out to see me, and sat me down in the small room.

 

"We need to talk to you. I am glad you came back. We need to speak to you about what happened. Jasmine gave me an update but your tests came out positive for all of it. STD and Pregnancy," she said. "What would you want to do."

 

I cried to pieces. I must have stayed there for an hour, talking to her about how much I loved Jack.

 

"Mary, what do you want to do in life?" she asked. Her name was Gretchen.

 

"I don't know," I told her.

 

"I want you to take the day off, and go to school, and tell your Father, and then come to us tomorrow to talk about it," said Gretchen.

 

Seth, tonight, I might end my life. This might be my last letter. I don't want to get an abortion.

Gretchen gave me some pills and I took it. She said that if I had PID, I might have lost the baby. 

I need proof. I'm dumb, Seth. It was all my fault. I know my life is ruined now. I won't amount to anything.

 

I want to die, tonight.

WishesOoohWshes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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To The Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers

~"TRIGGER WARNING"~

 

March 15, 2010

 


To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

 

Last night after I came home from work, I just slept the night away and woke up at dawn. I stepped outside to our front door this morning and sat on the steps. The sky was pink with a hue of purplish ray of sun. I wanted to be the sun, a source of light, but I felt so blue inside. I wrote this in the evening of today, and I had a full day of somber thoughts.

 

I loved Jack, and I would marry him and bear his children. I wanted to stay here in Jersey and go to Community College together and major in something practical like nursing. We would work together, making ends meet, but I would be safe and stable because his parents ae comfortable and Dad won't care if we married or not.

 

All Dad wanted yesterday was Brenda, she came over last night and they went to church together. She said my Dad changed himself for the better. Target gave him a raise and he's making $2 dollars more per hour now, and it's more than just minimum wage. With my paycheck and his paycheck, we make about $2000 per month and we pay the bills on time. I'm happy about the pay raise, but my dreams with Jack makes me happier, except it's all over. My reality deteriorated into a vortex of depression and whisps of darkness entering my thoughts.

 

The sadness is cold to my body at this moment, and even breathing is not comforting me.  I feel indignant of life, and what it gave me. I hoped for the most beautiful things, but the worst happened, and most of all, I lost his love.

 

I didn't call Jack. I want to confront him at school tomorrow. I need to hear his words and the truth. I don't want to imagine what he would say or predict what would happen. I need to know for myself.

 


Tomorrow will come, and I'm ready,

WishesOoohWishes

 

 


March 16, 2010

 


To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 


I came to school with a mission, to speak to Jack. I didn't want anyone to deter it, so I waited for him in front of the entrance at school. My black hoodie with elongated sleeves kept me warm, but I shivered from the cold. Jack wore a black parka with layers underneath with jeans, and I grabbed him by his sleeve and pulled him close to me. I sat him down on the bench near the entrance outside of the school gates.

 

"I need you right now," I said to him.

 

"Okay," he said. We walked to the edge of the front entrance and sat down on the wooden bench. "What's going on?"

 

"How come you didn't call me for the past few days?" I asked him.
 
"Just busy with Abby, she needs some training, you know that," Jack said.

 

"Training? With what?" I asked. "We had sex, Jack. It's a big deal."

 

"Yeah," Jack nodded. "It felt good, but I thought we went too fast. We just have to slow down a lot."

 

"I thought you were setting the pace, especially after the Breckenridge trip," I said. "I met your parents and everything felt real, Jack. I'm happy about it."

 

"Are you on your period?" Jack asked. My heart dropped, because it was such a "guy" response.

 

"NO!" I scolded. "It's not always hormonal, Jack. It's called being courteous. You should have called!"

 

A few kids heard me and looked to my direction, and walked inside the gate.

 

"Don't yell at me. First of all, it takes two of us to do it. You know that, I'm not always the one who has to initiate the phone calls. Why didn't YOU call me?" Jack replied.

 

"Because I'm the girl, Jack. The guy makes the moves, we know this," I said. "The guy needs to man up!"

 

"Such a prissy move on your part," said Jack. "I was busy!"

 

I looked into his eyes, wide and dark, as if his eye brows became mountains of anger towards me.

The tips of his eye lids were pink as his eyes watered. My eyes watered with his. I held his right hand for a second as he took it away from me. He got up and left me on the bench, in the cold morning air, alone.

 

He walked into the school gates and didn't look back. I felt something inside my chest dropped to my gut, and my head felt empty.

 

I looked to the rushes of students walking in, as the bell rang. My eyes wandered to the distance, then slants to the side. I stared at the ground for ten minutes. I didn't want to go inside our school. Snow began to fall from the sky, and my bones felt a chill seeping into my bones.

 

Jack might be gone for good.

 


I thought love had just begun,

WishesOoohWishes. 

 


March 17, 2010

 


To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 


Seth, I came back from school today with my eyes swollen, because I couldn't stop the tears from falling. Each class I went to was a blank space, and I didn't want to the there but I forced myself. I'm failing English, and I haven't read Catcher in the Rye for my AP Class. I made up some story about how I had to work late at T-Bell and just sobbed. Mrs. McCarthy told me to talk to her after class, but I just left. She wanted to ask personal questions again, and I didn't want to talk to her. Of all the teachers at school, Mrs. McCarthy was the nicest, and English was my favorite subject, but I was a lost cause. I didn't want anyone to know why I was crying, because Jack abandoned me after a week of bliss and sex at his parent's villa in Breckenridge, Colorado.
 
I was scared of the kids at school, because eyes were prying into my life, as if everyone had a bubble over their heads that said, "What's the slut doing here? Go have sex behind the bleachers!"

 

I didn't even get to ask Jack those questions. Seth, I was right, right? He was supposed to call, right?

 

I've never had sex before, but I swear, in every episode of Glee, the guy always made the call. Maybe I was watching too few episodes to really know the truth. I mean, Glee showed real life right? Sethy?

 

In between songs and dance numbers, there was an invisible understanding that if a couple was having sex, they call each other and even text. Jack didn't do that! Seth, was I high maintenance?

 

My sweater and jacket felt worn out and I haven't done laundry for weeks. Dad wasn't home when I got home yesterday. This morning before school, I saw him with Brenda making breakfast. For sure, they had sex. I didn't want to ask, but I just knew. I didn't look them in the eye because that would terrify me. I felt bad because Jack never made breakfast at Breckenridge. We did it the last night we were there and the next morning we had to fly back with his folks.

 

At school, we just went back to class after sex behind the bleachers, and I walked home. So this morning, when Brenda offered some French Toast, I dodged her and said no. I took my cereal bowl and ate outside on the steps.

 

Seth, was I being difficult? I'm not sure of anything at all. I felt it was my fault I feel this way, because Jack said it takes the both of us to have sex, and he was right. I really wanted to be with him, and so I let him. Seth, why do I feel so bad? It was supposed to be romantic.

 

I felt like Drunk Uncle's niece, that cameo guy with spiky greying hair who slurs his words to talk about his dysfunctional family. I felt like I was the butt of his jokes, the girl everyone talked about. At school, Marilu and I didn't really talk, and as usual, I was
 
alone in the halls, wandering if I should be there at all because Jack wasn't with me. I felt incomplete.

After school, I worked and it was the usual burrito line and did some floor sweeping. I cleaned the bathroom and bleached the toilet seats. There weren't a lot of customers and my manager, Ben, was always nice.

 

"What's wrong, Mary?" he asked. His black vest always looked ironed and clean.

 

"Just school stuff," I told him. My eyes still felt tender and puffy from crying for the past two days.

 

"You're almost done, right? Then college, a lot to look forward to," Ben said. "You have to look at it with an open arm. The future is so big!"

 

"It's just high school, Ben. Not a big deal," I replied.

 

Ben smiled at me, and replied, "I got lucky I graduated. I got lucky with this job, and I didn't go to college. But you, Mary, you've been good. You should be proud of yourself."

 

I kept a stiff upper lip and bit them into my mouth, holding the tears from falling. Sethy, Ben said I was being good, but I wasn't. I was the school slut.

 


Slutty Mary, and now people know!

WishesOoohWishes

 

 


March 18, 2010

 

 
To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 


Seth, I didn't want it to happen this way. I wish you could've helped me. Today was brutal, I have to warn you, it was nasty.

 

I searched for Jack before lunch, and found him with Horatio just before fourth period. Jack hangs out with him sometimes, because they've been Super Mario Brothers fans since middle school. I took Jack by his arm gently, and pulled him aside.

 

"Meet me near the bleachers," I whispered.

 

"Okay," said Jack. He smiled at me. I wanted to kiss him so much and I almost did, but he dodged and hugged me instead.

 

I went outside in a hurry right after fourth period and thank goodness the snow was just melting away.

It wasn't as cold as it looked with some water spots on the seats, but I stood beside it.

 

Jack walked towards me and my heart pumped and I was so happy he decided to meet me there.

I hugged him and he held me tight.

 

"What did you want to talk about?" Jack asked.

 

"I miss you," I said, opening all of my heart to him.

 

"I can't stay for long, let's talk about what you want to talk about," he said.

 

"We're still together, right?" I asked. I was pleading for a yes, and hoping to see him smile at me, and hear him say he loved me.

 

"Eh, that would be no," he said.

 

I burst into tears, and couldn't look him in the eyes, as I asked, "Why? Was it my fault?"
 
"Yes, and no," Jack said. "My parents and I talked about it, and they felt we were too young to be so serious. They told me to wait until college."

 

I felt a huge arrow from behind me piercing through the front of my chest and my jaw gaped open. His parents said they liked me, and that they invited me to Breckenridge and flew me to Colorado with Jack because they wanted me to feel welcomed. I didn't understand.

 

"Mabel told me that you bragged to your friends about us having sex here, behind these bleachers," I confronted him.

 

"That's rumors and gossips. I didn't say anything," Jack said.

 

I held him close to me, and begged him, "Please stay with me, we can work it out. So I won't feel so alone in this. It's embarrassing, Jack."

 

I ran my fingers through his curly hair and reached to his lips and kissed him.

 

He kissed me and pushed me closer to the bleachers with his body. His kiss felt hard and he bit my lips, and I pouted and said, "Ouch, that hurt."

 

He grabbed my chest and his kiss became hard as his body pushed me further underneath the seats. Tears came out of my eyes, and I felt his body push me down to the ground. He took my jeans and opened the buttons and I wasn't ready for what happened next. His left hand cupped my face, and his right hand reached underneath my jeans as he told me, "Hush, Mary…be still. Keep quiet."

 

My body stiffened and I kept still as he told me what to do and I felt his hand pressed down my face as I gasped for air. "You liked it so much, I liked it too, let's do this," said Jack. "You want it so much, Mary. Then you got this. You asked me for this."

 

I couldn't breathe and I didn't want to scream. Sethy, I wanted to kiss him, but I wasn't ready for all of this. I wish you were here to hold my hand and helped us rationalize what we needed to do. I wanted a relationship with Jack, but I think he just wanted sex.

 

He began pumping into me and it felt like a knife into my vagina, forcing himself into my womb, and hurting my stomach. It felt harsh and my body jolted with his every move. I wanted him to get off me, but my body felt stiff and frozen. When he finished I felt him groan and pushed me in.

 

My eyes sobbed as my nose moistened and wet his hand. "Eeewww, gross. You got snot all over," he said. I sobbed and couldn't stop crying.

 

"Please stop, Jack," I begged him. "Please…it hurts. It's too rough."

 

He pushed me away and got up. He pulled his jeans up and reached for my hand, but I couldn't get up. I laid on the ground, with my tears running down my temples. I buttoned my jeans and got up slowly.

 

"Okay. That was nice, but I can't stay. You got what you wanted," Jack said.

 

The tears felt hot on my face, and my eyes bulged out of my eye sockets. My body felt feeble with the air from inside of soul depleted of energy. The space in between my chest cracked and my brain split in half.

 

I felt crazy, stupid, dumb, and all I hoped for was for no one to find out about it.

Sethy, please don't say anything. Please don't tell anyone. I'm so scared. I wish you were here to be my friend. I wish you are my big brother.

 


Hurting,

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 
March 19, 2010

 


To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 


Yesterday played over and over inside my head and inside my body. My body was stiff and I let the snow soaked into my jeans for a moment to cool me down. The inside of my veins felt hot and I boiled inside my body, not out of anger, but out of fears.

 

When Jack got up from on top of me, he also said, "I'm happy you love me. I think this was meant to happen." He zipped his jeans, and told me, "You know you wanted me so much. I hope you're okay. I gotta go."

 

I froze and my legs fell asleep and I couldn't move the bottom part of my body. Jack kicked me, and said, "Get up! You need to go!" And he walked away.

 

I closed my eyes and cried. My breath stifled and the moisture from my nose ran down the side of my lips. Tears ran down my temples and my eyelids felt warm. Something popped inside my head and there was spinning as I laid there on the snowy ground. I was inside a dark well, with rocks over me.

I fluttered my eyes open after a few minutes and looked up and saw the underside of the bleachers seats.

 

"I'm sorry," I said to myself. "I'm sorry." I didn't know why I said it, but I felt guilty and burned through my soul. It was my fault I kept kissing him. It was my fault I kept pushing him. Jack was angry and I pushed him too hard. "I'm so sorry," I said once more.

 

I turned to my left and cradled my legs. With my right hand, I pushed on the ground, and lifted my torso up. My head spun and my legs felt weak from Jack's pressure over me. My left leg folded and I pushed myself up from the ground with my wet jeans and my jacket soaked on the back side. "I'm sorry," I kept saying. I didn't know what else to say.

 
Seth, I got in trouble. It was my fault. I asked for it. I wished Jack would have slapped me instead of this. I wasn't sure what to do.

 

My stance felt wobbly and I almost fell walking up to the school grounds from the fields. Approaching the school doors to the hallways, I kept sobbing and couldn't bear to be there in front of everyone. I didn't want to tell anyone. This was embarrassing and there were already rumors of me being a slut. I walked through the side of the building, and kept on walking home.

 

Work was always after school. I have to call in sick. I'm so stupid. What did I do to myself?

 


Seth, I ruined my life.

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

 

 

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To The Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers


March 1, 2010

 
To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

Jack and I did it again, and this time, it was at school.

 

We had lunch and went to the farthest side of the football field, next to the bleachers and we did it. He said he used a condom, and I trust him. He always has a pack of it inside his bag. His appetite for sex is beyond my control. I can't seem to know when he wants to have it, but I just let him because I don't want to see him go away. It's the last thing I want in my life right now, because if Jack goes, I will have no one to love me. Dad is in love with Brenda and I don't  really know anyone else in town.

 

Mabel is a frenemy I think. She seems nice, but she likes Jack too much. I always hold Jack's hand tightly, especially with Mabel around, because I don't want to let him go, and sex is our bridge to each other.

 

It was nice that day we did it in the football field. It was cold and the snow flakes landed on my nose, so the heat in between us kept us warm. We have this thing that he holds my chest tight and he kisses me as we have sex. It feels intense and I love every minute of it. Jack is happy with me, I hope.

I think he's the best thing that ever happened in my life.

 

"It's okay to experiment at our age," he often tells me, and it makes me feel so much better. First, because he's with me, and second, because it's our little secret. 

 

He is tender afterwards, and he caresses my cheeks and holds me tight. He says that I am his first love, and he is mine. I don't ever want to lose him. It will be the end of my life.

 

If Dad is gone, as I sometimes feel like it might happen, I will try to survive, but if Jack is gone, I'm in deep trouble. Dad is not there all the time, so I'm used to it, and I figure, I can live with Jack's family. I know his family loves me.

 

Seth, if you meet me, I am taken by Jack. Also, I know you have a girlfriend, at least that's the rumor around school. All the SNL fans talk about it. We have a comedy club at school and we talk about SNL all the time, and although I'm not in it, I hear their gossip. Mabel tells me that they analyze the skits since Dan Akroyd and even when Eddie Murphy was on. We all remembered how to not look po nub in all the wrong places, looking po nub. 

 

Jack also loves you and he loves SNL, and he says that you're lucky. But, I feel lucky because of Jack.

 


Lucky girl,

WishesOoohWishes

 

 


March 6, 2010
  
To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,


Today, you gave my sadness a piece of cheese to smile about, and that sorrow ran away like a pansy.

 

Dad and Brenda are at it again. They had sex last night, and I heard them from my room. She has been coming over to our house more often, and she cooked us dinner after I came home from work.

I ate lobster and rotini, and it was delicious, but I was nervous because I think I might have a new mother. Brenda is nice to my Dad and he loves her, I think.

 

Dad doesn't drink that much anymore, and they told me that they met through some group that Target sponsored him to go to so he can keep his job. His friend Sam doesn't come anymore because I think Dad mentioned something about Knights of the Columbus group that Sam belongs to. Sam is a good guy, and he had a bad divorce, but my Dad said that his heart was Irish Catholic.

 

I escape inside my room, and write to you. You don't have to be here, and you are only near me through a picture, but even that picture makes me forget about my stresses that wavers in my mind. It might be because of those trancing eyes of yours, even if it wasn't blue, that would make any girl fall in love with you.

 

Jack hasn't called me for a couple days, and it's okay because I know he's in love with me. He must be busy with Abby or with his parents but I don't mind, because we see each other during school and I'm busy with work after school. My biggest fear is Jack cheating on me, because I'm the easiest person to cheat on, and that's what my Dad told me. But, Dad never cheated on Mom, because it was Mom who wanted to leave us. So, Jack better not leave me or I'm going to be so sad.

 

To keep my mind off of those fears and stresses, I write to you, Seth, and it is so amazing to have you in my mind. My vision is of you and me, meditating on the sand near an ocean, while the breeze eases our souls and remedies my life with your healing presence by my side.

 

Everything is so peaceful and calm with you near me, as the ocean waves serenades you and me, to bring forward that peace of mind. This is how I think of you, not as a meditation partner, but as the helper of my soul.

 

I enjoy every letter I write, because they help me focus on the reality of everything around me through simple writing of stress relief of love to you. I just love you, Seth Meyers, and it is undeniably true that I may be your most loveable fan you will ever have! That's in comparison to everyone in the world, from Australia to Brazil, or from Sweden to Japan, I am most likely, your favorite fan! It is endearing isn't? To be loved for your skills, your work, and who you are, that in itself is a reflection of how beautiful I am.

 

I love moments of random visions of you, and I don't care what people say about me and my state of mind. Who are they to judge? I am sure they love someone, or maybe don't have the courage to stand up for themselves and become a totally random individual who just love!

 

I do worry about my own life too sometimes, because all I think about is you, and how much I love Saturday Night Live, but I am confident that Jack won't mind. I do watch other shows and I do love other celebrities, but your picture calms my soul, that's when I knew you are my favorite!

 

I love you, Seth Meyers, and it won't change, even 40 years from now.

 


Eternal Flame,

WishesOoohWishes

 

 

 

March 7, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

  

Dad smiles now. I never saw him smile before, not even growing up. He was always so tired and when he worked at the car factory, he was always so serious. Mom never smiled either, and she was always so sad and cried most of her days. I don't know what happened to her now, she never writes us any letters and we don't know where she is. She disappeared.

 

Brenda is the person who is giving my Dad some smiles. I guess that's great, and I'm happy for him, and I don't want to see anything wrong again. I would rather have Brenda than Sam, because Sam is bad influence and he brings too much alcohol into our home.

 

Brenda doesn't drink, and she said she's been sober for twenty years. She looks like she's in her forties, so that's a very long time. Dad is only 47 years old, but he looks older. I hope Brenda will get him to exercise and they can start going out more and more.

 

Jack still hasn't called. I'm starting to worry. The last time I saw him was Friday, after we had sex at the bleachers, and today is Sunday, but he hasn't called. I don't know what I did wrong. I will try to call him tonight after work. I hope it's nothing major.

 

I love you, Seth, but I love Jack more because we did it. If you and I were a couple, we would be arrested for our age difference, but Jack is perfect. He's tall with curly brunette hair, and grey eyes. From a far, he looks like a lone wolf, but he's my lone wolf. He's absolutely beautiful and he has large deep set eyes and mesmerizing smile. His lips are supple and thick, enveloping all of mine, and he has smooth taupe skin with broad shoulders and a beautiful oval face. He's perfection.

 

If I never met Jack, my life would be empty. I won't have anyone to confide in, and I tell him everything but I don't tell him about you. You're my secret, and these letters are my secrets. These letters are my true feelings, desires, my relief and my comfort. I write them all to you, my SNL hero. If you didn't exist, Sethy, I would be empty, too, but I won't think that way, because it's not real and I have to stick to reality of Jack and me, and WHY HASN'T HE CALLED?!

 


Confused,

WishesOoohWishes

 

 


March 9, 2010

 
To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 
I dreamt of you last night, and we were walking in New York City.  I think we are definitely supposed to meet, because I've had the same recurring dream for a while now, and it's starting to affect my sleep.  I think it's either because I miss you or I keep watching the webcast once too many times during the week.  

I think the real reason is because the good spirits from above are in love with the idea of you and me in New York City. In this dream, we were at Gray's Papaya, and we both got the largest Papaya juice cup in the world. We couldn't finish the drink, so we just held the cup in our hands, and walked the city together.  

We stopped near a shoe shiner, and I pulled out my harmonica that was suddenly in my pocket, and started to sing a song I wrote especially for you on G major.  "Ohhhhhh, Seth Meyers!"

 

The verse repeats twice then ended with a riff in falsetto.  The shoe shiner's son tap danced to my voice, and the shoe shiner clapped his hands and told me, "Don't kiss him if this is your first date."
 

We smiled, and you told me, "I think you are the cutest girl I've ever met."  I wanted to grab your hand, and just give you a hug, but it would have been too forward for a first date with my heor, so I held the papaya juice cup instead.  
 

Then we went inside a Chinese variety store, and for some reason, I asked the store keeper about sweeping you off your feet, because I have to make sure you will remember me in the dream.  

I asked the store keeper, "I want him to know, that I am the sweetest girl he will ever meet.  What should I do?"

 

The store keeper replied, "Just feed him, but don't sing to him, because you're tone deaf."

Then, the store keeper gave me a little rooster and told me, "I give one for you, and one for Sexy boyfriend."  Immediately, I just had to get out of the store, for fear he will try to set you up with his daughter!  

 

As we walked out of the store, you opened the door for me and told me, "It's my job to sweep you off your feet." I almost cried, and looked at you the same way I would when I see a mountain turtle.  Afterwards, I handed you one of the rooster charm from the store keeper, and we walked to the next store in New York City.  Then I woke up, revived, loving you, and wishing for Gray's Papaya juice.

Now, I wonder if we would ever meet, and if you would ever notice me.  

 

I trust and believe, that some forces beyond my control is holding me gently, and loving me. Heaven knows, how much love I have in my heart for you, and love will never go unnoticed.  I write these love letters out of respect of that love, and I know you would respect me, for loving you in the most peculiar way.  

 

Maybe one day, I will be the most perfect dream for you, and maybe deep down inside, you love Gray's Papaya juice. If somehow these letters escaped from under my bed and landed in cyberspace, please know that I love you.  I think you are the most amazing star I would like to meet, and I think you are forever gorgeous, Seth Meyers!  

 

I hope one day we can go to Gray's Papaya, and order their papaya juice in the largest yellow plastic cup in the world, and walk in the city while holding hands.  
 
That was a great dream, and I'm sticking to it!
 
Ohhhhhh, Seth Meyers! I love you!
WishesOoohWishes 

 

 

 

March 10, 2010

   

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

  

I called him. I wasn't supposed to, because the guy was always the one who has to call the girl after sex.

 

At the bleachers, Sethy! I got hurt. I wasn't supposed to. It was just a gossip, and it was supposed to be romantic, but now he hasn't called and I'm screwed. If he breaks it off, then the rumors of him being a player was true. I got hurt, Sethy. What in the world was I supposed to do?

 
I watched SNL this past weekend and it didn't help. You talked about how worms mated in the night and it was a one-night stand. Then you were with Ben Affleck in a crazy skit and you both started to kiss each other, but those crazy antics all didn't help.

 

I cried all night and couldn't breathe properly. My mental illness flared up, too. I was just slumping down and it I couldn't do anything about it. What will I do now at school? Everyone will laugh at me. I got hurt, Sethy.

 

He hasn't called. I got hurt!

 

  

I wish you could help me,

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

 

March 11, 2010

  

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I talked to no one at school today. No one looked at me in the eyes at school. They dodged me, each one of them. Mabel said she couldn't talk and she had so much homework that she couldn't spend anytime with me. I didn't do any of mine and everyone at the lunch table helped me do it. There was Sean, Derek and Benjamin, and Annette and Alexis and Nga. They each gave me the answers to the Trigonometry homework.

I won't know if my grades will make it this year, and I was planning to go to the Community College anyway. I didn't want to stress myself out.

 

I remembered you said that in Florida, shit happened all the time? That news in Florida was like news from outer space? That's what my life felt like right now. It's crazy and shitty, and slimy, putrid, green pukey and I hated it.

 

All the kids didn't look me in the eyes, and that meant something was wrong. I needed to know.

 


Shit will go down in my life, and you're the only hope,

WishesOoohWishes

 

 

 

March 12, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

   

Sethy! Jack screwed me over.

 

I cornered Mabel near the lockers after school. I walked from behind her and steered myself closer to her shoulders, and just kept pushing her to the lockers with this whole body. All 140 pounds of soft flesh, cornering her to the edge of the lockers as she flailed her arms trying to fend off the wall on the other side. She lost, and couldn't beat me or the wall, so she put her back to the lockers and I kept edging with my shoulders.

 

"What is going on? I know you know. What was whirling in the crowd?" I asked her.

 

"Nothing is swirling. No hot chocolate, nothing. Just me. I don't know anything," Mabel said.

 

"Why is everyone ignoring me? I didn't do anything wrong. Jack hasn't called and not a soul wanted to speak to me. Tell me the truth," I said to her.

 

Mabel looked down to her measly sweater and I pushed her stomach in with my fist. She squirmed and finally said, "Okay! Okay! Okay!"

 

"Tell me!" I yelled at her face.

 

"Everyone knows you had sex with Jack behind the bleachers. Some kids saw you, and the whole school thinks you're a slut!" Mabel said. "You asked for it!"

 

I stepped back. I couldn't stop the tears from falling and Mabel held my arms, she said, "Don't….not in front of everyone. Get out of the hallway."

 

We walked to the bathroom, and got into the stalls, and she told me, "Jack bragged to the guys that your vagina was soft and tight. They smiled and got happy and Jack said you were hot."

 

I sobbed. She told me the truth, and I was really hurt inside, my soul cracked and I felt it in my gut that my life was over. I couldn't get out of the bathroom and wanted to stay in the stalls with Mabel.

 

"Did you do it?" Mabel asked me.

 

I breathed in, and broke the silence that held me. I tried to say, No, but couldn't.

 

"Yes," I told her, then closed my face with my palms and sobbed.

 

Mabel wasn't impressed. She looked to the toilet, and inhaled a big breath in. Thank goodness no one else was there. It was in between classes and my History class was for the birds.
 
"I didn't know Jack would do this to me," I said, in between breaths. "He told me he loved me. And that it was between us."

 

"They all say "I love you," said Mabel "They all just want some."

 

"But, I met his parents and they took me to Breckenridge," I told Mabel.

 

Mabel held my arms down from my face, and breathed in and looked at me. I followed her breathing, and calmed myself down. 

 

Mabel cried with me. We held each other's arms and cried.

 

"What's your plan?" Mabel asked.

 

"Nothing," I said.

 

"You have to have a plan," said Mabel.

 

"Shit. Nada, nothing, null. I'm screwed over," I said. "When did you find out?"

 

"A week ago," said Mabel.

 

"A week ago? We just had sex a week ago? He talked loud," I said. "That means he did it after we had sex."

 

I wiped my tears, and my snot. Mabel took some toilet paper and gave it to me. I took it and blew my nose as loud as possible. I hated my life. I hated Jack.

 

I couldn't stop crying. Mabel said, "I need to go to class. I won't be able to get into NYU if I skipped Calc."

She always wanted to go to NYU, but I just wanted to go stay alive.

 

She left me in the stalls, sobbing. I took some more tissues, and walked out sometime later. I went to the school office and told the admin-lady, "I'm sick. I need to go to the doctor. I have to go."

The admin-lady tried to stop me and said something about a permit and a signature from my teacher and the principal, but I crossed her and walked out.

 

I walked home, a few miles away, and wrote this to you.

 


My life is over, Sethy. Don't know what to do,

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

 

March 13, 2010

 
To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 
I didn't do anything. I stayed home. Dad knocked on the door, and told me to wake up. It was noon, and I didn't want to get out of bed. He said, "You still have to pass your class to go to Community College."

 

I didn't care. I was supposed to graduate soon. I didn't know when, sometime in the Summer. Who cares.

 

"Mary, you have to make sure you can survive this world without me," Dad said. "I'm not going to be here forever."

 

I didn't answer him. I pulled my blanket over me, and closed my eyes, then grabbed my pen and wrote to you, Seth. You're my inspiration. I ignored Dad, and kept closing my eyes until words appear in my vision, and wrote them down.

 

In my vision, hope jumbled down to oblivion, and around it were thorns of roses, but it was silver steel sharp and it surrounded me. The thorns from the roses pricked my skin all over my body, and it wrapped itself around me piercing through. Blood spurted out of my skin, bleeding me down to the Earth.

 

I felt a darkness inside my blood and it ran through inside my heart and it depleted my energy. My head thrown back and my eyes rolled back as it took my energy, this dark spirit, and I wilted down to the Earth and laid bare in my jeans and shirt all bloodied and sopped.

 

I didn't tell Dad, and I told no one else but you. I loved your face, Sethy, and I loved your whole being. I knew you wouldn't do any harm towards me the moment I saw you on television. I knew you would be my anchor, aside from Weekend Update.

 

I knew you would be my hero, from a far land of New York, even if New Jersey was next door. I've never been to New York. All of my life, I was with Mom and Dad and when Mom left, all of my desires went with her. Dad kept knocking on the door and asking me, "Please get up, honey. I don't want you to skip school tomorrow. Can you please get up?"

 

I ignored him.

 

I think I will ignore the world, because the world ignored me.

 

Yeah! That's my revolt! I'm throwing a protest.

 


I'm hating it,

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 


March 14, 2010

  
To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 
T-Bell was brutal. There were tacos with my tears in it, and burritos with no salsa. I didn't know what to do. I just kept holding the line, and placing every order as it said on the printer. I almost burned myself on the heating block and there might be a burrito with two layers of tortilla. I didn't tell anyone that I was depressed. I kept on.

 

Sethy, you would be proud of me, I didn't drink soda. I might have cried the whole six hours I was at work, but I didn't drink a sip of Diet Coke, my usual vice. I was offered Pepsi, Diet Pepsi, Mountain Dew, that orange stuff, and the tea, but nope….I said I was drinking water. My body craved it.

 

The probability of me graduating was slim, because I didn't pay attention to class at all since I was with Jack. He took all of my attention and all I wanted was to hear from him this week, especially after we had sex at the bleachers. The least he could do was call me to say everyone didn't find out, and that he kept our moment to ourselves and everything Mabel said was speculations, rumors, gossip, unproven theory. Then everything would be fine and back to normal.

 

Next order was nachos, and I piled on the beef and queso, because someone would be happy at the other end. My manager said I was pleasing him, so I kept piling on the queso for each order, even when it didn't call for it. Everyone loves cheese, why waste melted gold?

 

It worked for a while, but I kept thinking about Jack and how hot he was. His perfect nose, his curly brown hair and how gentle he was when he made love to me. This whole ordeal felt surreal, and the whole rumors and gossips at school felt outer space. It didn't fit Jack's personality. Would he brag about this? Or did someone saw us? Mabel did say someone saw us, but why brag about it to other kids.

 


Something was wrong, I have to talk to Jack,

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

 

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To The Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers

February 18, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

Some people are meant to be soldiers, and some are survivors, fighting the same war, one day at a time.

Sethy, I am a bit of both. I am sure you don't really care when it comes to fan-ship. I think you love us all the same, and reserve the most unconditional love for your Jersey babies. But, some people are too scary to even speak about. Like Jack, and our relationship for instance.

 

I wish I never met Jack under the circumstances of high school and teen angst, but a perfect environment is somewhat an illusion nowadays for everyone at any age. I don't know if anything will change for the better, because he says to his friends that I slept with him behind the bleachers three days ago. But, I never did that. I swear to God! I'm a virgin! I think Jack is testing me, and I'm traumatized.

 
I confronted him after English, and all of the boring world history of the universe. I wanted some clarification. He said he wants to get together so I can prove my love to him. He said that he wasn't sure if I love him, unless I sleep with him.

 

What do you think, Sethy? I wish you are here. Dad is still at work, and it's only 9 pm. He goes to work from 6 pm to 6 am, four days of the week. He sleeps during the day when I am at school, then later after school I work at T-Bell till about this time, so I don't see him at all. I wish Dad can tell me what he thinks.

 

It doesn't matter, because in a day, you will be on SNL, and I will just watch your Weekend Update and feel the vibes through the television, and get my answers that way. I swear, one Saturday night, I felt your vibes so strong, I almost convulsed through time and space. You had your shirt off on Weekend Update and then on top of that, Kristen Wigg was the Target Lady at another re-run and I saw you were on that sketch, and I was like, "Oh my gawd. He's like family!" And I felt you told me a secret that you actually LOVE Jersey and especially girls like me with black hair and dark brown eyes. So, that was one special night for me.

 

Anyhow, about Jack, he has a friend, William, who told me, "You shouldn't do it, because it won't work," and this scary tactic of his friend who talked about "discouraging motivation" or "barriers to my proof of love," may not be his true friend. William said that it was "the flesh" and the devil is playing tricks with Jack and me, but the truth is. Jack and I want to do it, all the time, and it's been hard for me to resist. I let him put his hands on my chest and I love kissing him with his hand down my pants. I'm not sure if I am suppose to do it at this age, but I like Jack a lot, although he's an asshole sometimes. But, he's the only guy who's interested in me because I'm poor and Jack said I look "homely."

 

William is probably fearful of taking chances, because he never had a girlfriend. William is....heavy, okay….fat, and already has a mustache. All the girls think he's forty, but he's actually 16.

 

"I'm a genius, trust me," William says all the time. But, I don't have proof that he is or not. How am I suppose to know he is a genius and if he's a good guy if he doesn't want Jack and I to get together and have the best time of our lives?

 

I don't know, Sethy. I just know, that every time I see you on Saturday Night Live, I just adore you, and you are my dream man. I'm too young for you, because you're in your late thirties, and I am in my late teens, but who cares about age, right?

 

Am I suppose to compare you to Jack or to anyone or anything? I don't think so!

 

So, I decided, if Jack wants me, with all of the imperfect accents in my life of having an absent Dad and a runaway Mom, then why not?

 

The best thing about me is, I am sweet, from head to toe, and I don't care if people tell me I'm too crazy about Jack. Jack already knows that, and I just know that we are meant to be together and it's time. I think that's how candies of love are made, and how good hearts are born with.

 

So, please think of me in good thoughts and pray Jack will not treat me as hard candy, so I can stop feeling the imperfections of life from now on. Jack is from a middle class family and I am low-income, so I will be in good hands, forever.

 

Until next time, and YES, I still love you,
 
WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

 

February 20, 2010

 


To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 


I'm so happy that you don't care if I write to you at all. I guess this letter is going to be all about my anger for people who tells me not to succeed. Dad tells me to lay low and stop working at T-Bell and concentrate at school. He doesn't understand that it's my only way to get money to go out with Jack. It's the only place where I feel excited and happy.

 

Between tortillas and the heating block, I put my stresses about Dad on the hot plate. The fresh pico de gallo and salsa verde gives me a spicier taste buds and knack for life. I ask Dad all the time, if I can have some time with him, and he says he has to work. So this job, sort of replaces my time with him and the sadness from it. It helps me, and it heals me. I don't want to lose my job.

 

I just hate people right now, and I'm going to blame a lot things on people in general. World hunger, bullies, human trafficking violation, black carbon, all kinds of stuff, I'm going to think it's all their fault, not mine...all theirs, and all Dad's. Because he doesn't care about me!

 

I am really angry, just don't get upset at me, Sethy, since I'm just releasing my pain and stresses out on these letters. You should be proud of me, because I'm trying to help myself, to just release all kinds of pain through my job at T-Bell, and maybe someone out there will see how they are not alone.

 

It's all just stresses I have from my life because my Dad is a drunk. It's too weird, because I'm almost 18 years old (an adult), and Dad doesn't want me to have the money to take care of myself. He might as well tell me to never dream, imagine, succeed, or even love Jack, because he is a failure and I am so angry about it. Dad is on the same team as alcoholism, and addictions. He's on THAT team! Why should I bother listening to him?

 

He says, "You should sympathize with me, and feel how much I want to be more successful and happier in life." He's super stupid! He tells me this when I am the one who is taking care of the house chores, and taking care of myself. He pays the rent and electricity, but I pay for the groceries, and I never ask for my money back.

 

"You're going to become a failure! So you need to work hard!" Dad says to me, all the time. SO I AM WORKING HARD DAMN IT!

 

Somehow, he feels it is necessary to label me with his own dictionary that he made up with dirt. This is why I don't like him, because he's not very smart or creative and he uses a large negative value to create a positive effect. He failed ethics and math, the same way I am doing in those class.

 

This is why I don't care about people in general, and this is why I don't care for friends. I only have Jack and I want to prove my love to him, because I doubt that Dad loves me at all.

What kind of life partners was Dad in the first place? I wondered why Mom left, and I think I know why. I only heard fights, never discussions or even sweet talks. They always blame each other and talk about each other behind each other's back.
 
Sethy, I'll just release all the beef I have about him by writing it out. Don't worry, I'm not always this tart, and the sweet will come out when we meet, it's all sugar cane. I promise.

 

All the negative that deteriorates me, really won't hurt me anymore if I ever meet you, or if Jack marries me after high school. The ridicule of Dad's rejection that completely destroys me, will not degrade my values in life anymore.

 
I am sorry that I am just confessing my hate to you. Thanks for just being there Seth, you don't have to do anything at all, and it's really a simple help you gave me. You're so sweet, and I'm enjoying our imaginary friendship! LOVING IT!

 


I'm stronger without him,

WishesOoohWishes

 

 

 

February 27, 2010

 


To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers, of Saturday Night Live,

 

Do you have a dream, Gorgeous? Boy, do I have dreams. I have a dream that there are happy people everywhere, just loving, sweet, and not willing to give up on themselves. I have a dream that every family has a powerful leader, a good strong example of good support, and responsible provider for their loved ones. I have a dream of a family with Jack, and he is my dream man.

 

I just spent the whole week with him at his family's cabin in Breckenridge, Colorado. His father, who is an engineer, asked me to come.

 

Sethy, if it wasn't for my dreams, goals, or even day to day hopes and wishes that are so beautiful, I would lose my sight of my own beauty. What I mean is, I didn't say no. I realize I am allowed to love Jack, even if I'm a low-income teen with an alcoholic father. You know us girls, … we want to feel beautiful! This is why I am wishing, praying, dreaming, and planning for a good life, and most of all … working on it! I am proving my love to Jack. It is going to be hot hot hot.

 

We only spent a week at the cabin, and snowboarded, all paid by Jack's father and mother. I didn't mind it. Most of all, I felt included. I am a part of their family.

 

"What does your Dad do, Mary?" Jack's Mom, Jennifer, asked me. She is a brunette, and only 35 years old. Jack's Dad is Ben, a blonde, 45 years old, and looks like Jack. They're a perfect family, and his younger sister, Abby, is a smart cookie. She's ten years old, and already reading at high school levels. I rarely have time to read, and I feel so priviledged to be a part of their family.

 

Sethy, besides you, I'm in love with Jack. It's final. I won't take no for an answer. I decided and it is forever. I want this to last, and if it only takes sex to do it, then it shall be.

 

I love being in love, and I want everyone to be on this adrenaline love, without the Diet Coke! I just want everybody to feel happy, and to respect one another, because there are just too many lives tattered, and dreams torn apart, and Mothers leave their children, leaving Fathers sleeping on couches. This is why I am working on being a part of Jack's family, because I want a good life. One day, I can have a strong family, good community, and powerful children out of my womb, like Jack's Mom, Jennifer.

 

I'm going to start with me, because I love you, Sethy. This is REAL!

 


I'm so pretty!!!

WishesOoohWishes

 

 


February 28, 2010
 
To the forever gorgeous Seth Meyers, of Saturday Night Live,


Okay, I read over the letters I wrote you and they all suck! Full of all sorts of errors, and funny words, and I wonder if you will ever read them.  I need to write to you about my life and how I feel, because this is the only way I can survive.

 

I have no one to call family, Sethy. It's not funny. I talk to a counselor and the state pays her, otherwise, I have no friends at all. I don't want to talk to anyone at school about my life, except for Mabel, because she asks me. Fine, maybe she's a friend, but I'm still not sure.  

 

I am writing these letters to you because I think it's romantic, but I don't even think I will send them.  I sometimes kiss your picture in my wallet, especially during the bus rides and on those less than perfect days.  You make me feel better, and I don't tell Jack. If I can kiss you, I think I will just lose control! I will drop Jack in an instant!

 

Do you really have a girlfriend?  Why can't we be friends? I think I'm crazy about you, and I just dream about meeting you, being with you, loving you, dating you, and falling in love with you. I just can't help it, and I don't ever want to see you go away from SNL! Where will I find you if you go away? Surf another channel on television or internet? Unless you'll have another show, then I'll watch your show forever!

 

I'm praying that we will meet, as soon as possible, before you transfer to another job! I wish you tape your shows nearby my house!  Then, we can have bagels and lox each week, and maybe we could have Vietnamese Pho Noodles for dinner.  I have no idea how these ideas come to my mind. I promise I'm not ill, but I am sad that some things in my life. My job, for instance, I almost got fired this evening because I kept asking for help on the burrito line and no one wants to help me. My manager said I was being lazy, and I whispered and told him to screw himself and he heard me.

 

My microcosm of life is never perfect and I only have SNL to ease my pains.  If it was a perfect world, my wishes would come true, and we would meet, then everyone would let me love you, EVERYONE! Who cares if I'm only 16. If you can only see my heart, you will fall in love with me. 


I still want to meet you, even 40 years from now.  I just think you/re HOT! I'm sure you have millions of gorgeous women who are falling in love with you, but maybe some of them aren't spicy and sweet like me.  But, maybe they're proper and older than me, but I'm flavorful, and a little Szcheuan never hurts anyone.  

 

I just pray you will give me that fair chance when you see me, or maybe you will want to sweep me off my feet today. I just want to love you, and I hope you are down to Earth. If you can only feel what I feel, you may even cry about it.  For a girl like me, to fall in love and reach out to her dream celebrity hottie, it's a miracle.  

 

I love Saturday Night Live, and I am just captivated by you! Please don't think I'm desperate or lonely, even though I am. I just know you make me happy.  

 

I think it's okay to write to a celebrity and wish upon a star for him to love her.  It's normal and healthy, even through these letters.  If you think I'm reaching too high, trust me, I am actually an angel, who is sweeter in person than you think.  I am not ugly Seth, but I am charming and cute.  

I am not always perfect, but my feelings for you are all perfectly beautiful. 
 
Somehow, a pretty fairy, 
WishesOoohWishes

 

p.s: I also wrote Jack a letter, but he never wrote me back. Maybe he's being lazy. Who knows.

 

 


February 29, 2010

 


To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I want to tell you something, Sethy. Jack and I, ... we did it. In the cabin in Breckenridge, when his Mom, Dad and Abby were asleep. I didn't want to tell anyone, even you, even through these letters, but I'm scared. I don't know why.

 

Dad doesn't know. Please don't tell him, in case you have telepathy. I heard every anchor on Weekend Update has some kind of gift, that they have visions of people's lives because there is that world map behind them and it has some kind of powers. It is a curse but also a gift, but each anchor knows who their favorite fans are, and they can see the lives of their favorite fan through the camera.

 

I just always picture you, inside my mind, working my conscience and helping me. But, trust me, Sethy. Jack loves me, besides, no one loves me at all, so Jack's love is precious. I seriously don't think anyone will appreciate me, if Jack isn't my boyfriend and if we aren't having sex.

 

It feels like it's some kind of higher status, that we are a sexually active couple in high school. Sort of rebellious, but liberal and forward thinking at the same time. We used a condom, of course.

 

I think it's time people accept it, but trust me, I won't EVER tell our parents about this. NEVER! They are the last people on Earth that should know about it, because I don't want to get in trouble.

 

I think everything is safe with you, Seth. I can tell you everything through my letters, and it's perfectly normal. Even my counselor advices me to keep writing, and she tells me that I'm smart. I think I am too.

 


In love with you, … and Jack, 😊

WishesOooohWishes (a.k.a Mary, the marriage material).

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To The Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers

February 14, 2010

 


To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 


Why write to Seth Meyers?

 

Of all the souls in the world, I felt I know you, Sethy. Presumably you will read this, but for now, it will be etched inside the pages of this diary. High school feels like a scar on my face, embarrassing, and irritating for me. Although I am a pupil, but never the crowd. Teachers talk at me, because of my boredom and lack of enthusiasm. Their voice had a ball and chain attached to every syllable and I ignore them, as I ignore every adult in my house. Well….there was only one left.

 

My Dad lacks responsibility and my mother is long gone. She took her baggage to a more handsome man she met at the laundrette. So, Dad bought a set of washing machine and dryer because he didn't want me to run out on him too.

 

My life as a teen feels ominous since the day Mom left us, just a few years back. Sometimes, I feel sad and alone, and I wonder if you would condemn me for writing these love letters to you. I would never send these, at least not to the Rockefeller Building where you work, next to that white tower of Grace. I saw online that no letters or parcels were allowed inside the building, no matter who it was addressed to. Screwed up law, if you want my opinion.

 

Just a precaution, condemnation leads to sorrows and those viruses won't bear fruit, but will lead to painful lives. If I were to send these one day, please don't be sad for me or for these series of love letters. And please don't give me a restraining order, because I write these letters for my relief, of the unspoken love I have for you. I am some random underage teen in the burbs of Jersey, your favorite, but you're a better choice than Jack who screwed me over last year.

 
Jack is the depressive opposite, no pun intended. Don't make fun of me! He lives in Cherry Hills, and from an upper middle class, that means a hundred grand more than what my fragile father earns from his graveyard shift. He works at Target, as the stocker with a man named Sam, who often comes over with a brown bag of vodka. They drink till they sleep because their ladies (my Mom, and his wife) left them. I'm the idiot daughter who can't stay awake in class because I work at T-Bell after school, and it damn pays the bills.

 

My life is lackluster of fun and merriment because it's full of scrap metal of divorce and abandonment.  In case you're wondering what is the 'real' reason for my love letters, it's really up to you to decipher. I won't judge, as long as you won't do it to me.

 

From watching your show and just loving you, I feel joy in this world and love comes after the whole rain of tears is done and over with. I'm always alone on Saturday Nights, and Dad doesn't care. Jack hates me and called me a 'pauper' in front of his friends. I know better than to be there for self-pity.

 

I know, I know these love letters are nothing to you, because you have a million dollars and a hot girlfriend. But, these words are true, and you give me joy, even for a short moment on Saturday Nights.

So yeah, this is why I write to you, and because I just love loving you…

 
 
Loving Seth Meyers,

WishesOoohWishes (aka. Mary).

 

 

 

February 16, 2010

 


To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 


Sam and Dad never took a shower this morning. They slump on the couch, and slept like a baby since Valentine's Day. I wash the laundry and the dishes, and Sethy, you would be so proud to know that I made lasagna all by myself for lunch. I got it out of a box, but it's still lasagna. Dad has all these box lunches and dinners, and that's all there is in the fridge.

 

"Get up, it's morning, Dad," I say to him, shoving his elbow into the couch from hanging over the side arm. His lips smacks and his tongue licks the side of his mouth. He goes back to sleep.

 

"Sam, get up!" I practically scream into his ears. He turns his shoulders to face the other side of the grey cotton recliner. His eyes tight with protein smearing on the corner of his eyelids. Nose hairs protrudes from his nostrils and he sniffs in. He's a tough old man, and my Dad's best pal, but he looks gross.

 

Dad and Sam are two grouchy old men, and more likely, they must have met some bad people in their lives that makes them like this. Dad's name is Bob, and his name backwards is Bob. He says he loves his name because it's friendly, but all he does is sleep and drink, and rarely speaks to me.

 

I don't know how to describe him to you, Sethy. I wish he was a Jewish pediatrician, with an upper class Jewish background, with a confident and sweet demeanor. But, he's not. He's my Dad.

 
Sethy, do you have someone you love, but you never know if they ever love you in the first place? You probably don't because the whole world is at your feet, and they listen to you, especially when you do the Weekend Update with your co-anchor, Tina Fey and Amy Poehler. I wish I can talk to you, about everything. Especially our Dads, because mine is invisible, although he's here with me. 

 


100% in attention of you,

WishesOoohWishes (Or you can call me Mary if you want).

 

 


February 17, 2010

 


To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 


I feel so pretty, and I am having a Diet Coke moment at 2:00 a.m. on a Wednesday. It is two days before Saturday, and I think heaven is smiling down on me.

 

It's deep and dark at night, like the abyss, but at this moment, it is all about love, in the wee hours of the morning!

 

I am forever into you, Seth Meyers, and I don't mind it, at all. I ask God all the time, "Do you think Seth Meyers knows me, even in telepathy?"

 

I swear the Diet Coke speaks in bubbles and shouts, "Yes, Seth Meyers does know you!"

 

Seth, I expect you to read with the eyes of love, for every single page of this letter.

Every page is of truth, and I type each word with the most loving thoughts in my heart.

I am on adrenaline love, circulating in my blood at this time. You will be proud that I even have a goal, to train for life for every dream I wish and hope for, because I have love through you.

Yes, this is so real to me, and it is NOT CRAZY or DEPRESSIVE at all!

Besides, these letters are in the secret safe under my bed at this time, in the pages of my diary, so you will not have anything to worry about. 😊

 

I believe love is so near to my life, and I wish for you, Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live to meet me, when you can and you would. I love being in this state of mind, when every word I write on each page are tender and real. I am so happy for me, and I am so in love with you. I believe, there is nothing wrong with professing how much you admire and love a star, especially from someone like me. I have no one, and Dad is always at work and high school is full of Jack asses.

 

I only get excited about lunch at school. I have a lot of opinions about it, and it's not just about veggie pizza, it's more about steak and lots of peppers. My opinions are all about love, full of flavors, and the ardent tastes of life. For instance, don't you think every high school, or even middle school, should come with a food bank for less unfortunate kids like me? So, in case we don't have food at home, we can shop for free for veggies and even meat and chicken at the food bank? But, that's probably too stupid for people to understand how bored I am with boxed lasagnas.

 

I need to tell you something else, Sethy. Today, Jack asked me if I want to go out to the movies and do our 'thing.' It means making out while he fingers me. It's the in thing to do at school, but I don't feel like it. Dad doesn't care, but I just don't want to get in trouble with the movie attendant. We got kicked out once, a year ago, and it was just for putting our feet on the chairs in front of us.

 

Okay, yes, there was another time when Jack and I made out near the bathroom and we went inside the stalls and got caught. I don't want to do that again. My pants were so tight that I had to pull it back up like a pair of jeggings. Jack just put on his hoodie and walked out without me. He looked back to me, and said, "if you tell anyone, you're a slut!"

 

But, don't worry, my feeling right now is all about you, and IT IS REAL. I am not the type who would make superficial love. Sethy, I am not afraid of loving you, and I am not afraid if people can read my love letters to you. Why should I? Just because I am miles away, does not imply that I would ever need to repress my emotions at all. Until tomorrow, love me.

 


Adrenaline love,

WishesOoohWishes (Okay, don't tell anyone I'm Mary or I'll never SNL again!)

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Ichabod Frenzy - Chapter 40 & Colin's Epilogue - The End.

Chapter 40 - Ichabod

 

"Bitches be bitchin! Let's get that over with. We all know what's the real problem. They all just want a piece of Merrick and his money for stability so they all can go shopping," said Cliff.

 

I arrived a little early and the men from the fraternity were talking in their living room of the fraternity house. 

 

"Hey, I heard about the Blow Out," I said. "Freshmen, but Sophomore on credits."

 

"Yeah, you want the drinks, that's all, it's all there in the kitchen," said one of the other fraternity men.

 

"Merrick," he said, introducing himself to me. "Pledge Father. You can call me Big Poppa."

 

"Is that a Notorious B.I.G reference from the 90s?" I asked, smirking. I was the first one to arrive and Sunjit will come alone and so will Shane and Fanny. Office Fineman placed the bugs on us earlier and we were all tapped. The van and the policemen and their teams are several miles away. Some are nearby about three miles or so and wearing street clothes for incognito.

 

"Yeah, bro. You like him, yeah?" Merrick asked. "You know all the girls want the Big Man on Campus. That's me."

 

"I'm impressed. I'm am here for the beer," I said. Merrick pointed to the kitchen where there was another pledge brother playing bartender.  

 

"You spill you lick off the floor," he said to me. I nodded.

 

I heard Merrick talking about to the pledges.

 

"Basically, I'm the Raja here...okay. I'm where the honey's at. The chicks want a good man with money and this cream delicious with this bod," Merrick said, as he flexed his muscles. "Black bitches would kill to have me. So will Latinas. And you know Asian chicks will put out and pay out for this baby!"

 

Everyone laughed, and they all drank some of their beer. 

 

"Do you get more blows tho?" asked a brother. He laughed it out and said, "You know Merrick gets more blows from all kinds of bitches, but what would they do to do it?"

 

"I shave, okay. That's how much I get it," said Merrick. "It's all rank but they love this piece of meat."

 

"Besides, Black women will shoot out pellets guns on Asians anyday to get to me," said another brother. "That's just a regular white guy, and not Merrick."

 

"You a fine black man, Cliff. You know all the girls dig you, even Asian ones," said Merrick. "The common denominator is being fine. Being able bodied, being rich, and being handsome with a good body. We are the epitome of a good-looking man with advantages in life and with a lot of assets. Pretty much, all the fine bitches will crawl to get here."

 

"Black and Latinas and Asians and White, all of them want me. They would kill each other for a good man, we all know what it is....it's all genetics, boys. Natural Selection. We are the fucking prime authority!" said Cliff. 

 

"So I heard your sis kicked some bitch's ass to get Colin," I said. 

 

Merrick looked to me, and asked, "Where did you hear that from?"

 

"Rumors. Colin's miserable," I said, making things up.

 

I actually have no idea what happened to Colin and Melody. I knew they were now a couple and at this moment, having a prom date. Angelina is at home, and I told her to lay low with Sam as I'm here with the guys and Fanny, straightening things out.

 

"Colin's had an eye for my sister for a long time," said Merrick. "Angel was in the way. How did you know his ex was Asian?"

 

"She's a whore. Everyone's had her," I said. "Everyone had a few jobs from her. They all said she's easy and cheap. Cheap and a lot, that's the motto for getting her in bed."

 

Merrick and the guys laughed as Merrick laughed so loudly that he coughed and fell to the ground. "Oh man, I knew she was cheap. Her Dad was a chef at China 2000."

 

"Well, she went General Tso on my body, baby," said Cliff. Cliff accidently blurted out not realizing I was tapped. 

 

"Tiny pussy," said Merrick and Cliff. "Love me long time, mister."

 

"That's confirmed, for sure," I said, as I stood in the outer circles. 

 

"What's your name, son?" asked Merrick. "Are we pledging? Rush is come and gone, but you're always welcome to be a slave first for the neophytes and we can talk next semester how you can do a walk-in."

 

"Oh, I see, I like that," I said. "I'm going to just sit here and listen. I'm really honored to be here. I'm just a peon."

 

"Yes, you are," said one of the brothers. "You're below us right now."

 

 

 

"I'm Jewish. I know some history," I said.

 

"Oh shit!" said Cliff. He hurried to get off the couch and stood next to Merrick.

 

"Don't worry. I'm just kidding. I'm German," I said. "I just look Jewish to scare people off."

 

"Oh man, you got me there for a minute," said Merrick. "We usually don't get Jewish pledges here. We're not sure they'd fit in."

 

"Oh, I apologize, I won't say anything anymore. I was just patriotic is all, practicing my rights," I said. "Make America Great Again. Sorry,... again."

 

I drank the rest of my White Claw then turned around and noticed Shane was here.

 

Shane was the second to arrive and he wore his hair in dredlocks. He had highlights to accentuate his hazel eyes, and his dark brown tone. 

 

"Fine brother at the door," said Cliff. "I can smell my kind."

 

"I see," I said and saw Shane and stood to the side.

 

"Hey bro, you a freshman?" asked Cliff. "Model?"

 

"Yeah, Elite," said Shane. "I'm a part of a tribe with them. Down in Denver."

 

"Come and drink, kid," said Merrick. "See brothers? Good looks always get you some drinks and then some. Asian women eat that shit up. They like fat wallets and tight abs and status. Blondes, brunettes. and all the Black ladies will kill other women who are competitions and we all know Latinas. Fraternity men are the best."

 

"Let's talk numbers," said Shane. "How many women you talking about, bro? Double digits? Triple?"

 

"Still double. We don't go just go to triple without some status, although..." said Merrick.

 

"Aaaahhhh.....Merrick knows he's got some," said Cliff. 

 

Two more brothers arrive and they looked Asian.

 

"Hey, Eric and Tim, you two look like twins," said Cliff. "You staying?"

 

"We just got here," Eric said. "Upstairs had some complications."

 

"There were some broad who wants to use the bathroom," said Tim. "She's fat."

 

Shane and I walked towards upstairs and saw Fanny waving at us.  She pointed to Eric and Tim and closed her mouth.

 

"You get them next, Fanny," said Shane. 

 

Fanny gestured a thumbs up and walked inside the bathroom.

 

Merrick was still talking and boasting about how many women he had sex with and how he had back pains once during an encounter.

 

"You know Latinas...they'll get their gang brothers after a girl just to get a good-looking man with money," said Merrick.

 

"I got stalked once and she almost killed another one of my ex-girlfriend because she was talking too loud at the nail salon," said Tim.  "My ex told her pedicurist that I owned the supermarket, and the Latina stole my girl's cell phone and stalked her until my ex got into an accident. It was all because I was half-white and Asian and fine as filet mignon."

 

"Tim, Tim, Tim, you know you shouldn't have dated low class Asians. They talk...too much," said Merrick.

 

"What about you, Merrick?" said Cliff. "You had all kinds of girls. Any of them caused problems?"

 

"Nah....they all shut their mouths because they know they'll get a whip if they don't. Basically, I'll sue them if they talked," said Merrick.

 

"What about any Asian girls? or Latinas or Black? We all know you've dated white girls," said a brother.

 

"Minorities. That's what I call all of them. Dating minorities is a craft, man. Especially Asians. You gotta be smooth. They want to put out if you pay. But I think, let them pay the dates and put out for you to treat you like a king. They've gotta prove you're their prime attention from the heart. That's the way to do that," said Merrick. "Latinas and Black women are the best though...they just put out no questions asked. They'd kill Asians to get you. They all want a piece of me."

 

"Because you're white?" I asked.

 

"Not just that, but because I'm rich and good looking and my status is high. I'm some serious investment to them. I'm up here," said Merrick, holding his palms sideway toward his heart and over his head, showing the high level with his hand. "Girls in America want to marry white men, and basically fine men in all colors. They all want to marry good men with high status because they're tired of those disrespecting men, black killing black, latinos in gangs...they're tired of them. They want civilized and good looking and gorgeous inside and out. Like me. This whiteness."

 

"You're just a gift to mankind, Merrick," said Cliff. "I'm listening to you all the time. Bro, I'm doing anything you tell me to do."

 

"You know what Cliff....slavery is a bitch isn't? It just brings down an entire race and it gives so much drama to the next generations, as if they lived it. It's actually their ancestors that brought them down," said Merrick. "It's a shame, bro. You're no slave, bro. You're a model, look at you. Black and gorgeous. You're my blood brother."

 

"I want to be a blood brother," said Shane. I stood to the side and walked upstairs and heard from the corner of room, Merrick telling Shane that he's an Orion Star and although his ancestors were slaves, he was a freed man and being the fraternity will free him even more and give him more status. More security and following Merrick and his ways will give him benefits, such as women, Asian women, Gorgeous Black women, curvaceous Latinas and other model looking women with money and connections.

 

"Basically, just do what Merrick wants, bro. Trust me," said Cliff. "He will show you the world, bro."

 

"I believe it," said Shane. As he shook hands with Merrick, and I walked upstairs where Fanny was in the bathroom.

 

"Fanny, what are you doing?" I asked.

 

"I'm not sure if they're gay but they were here in the bathroom for a long time," said Fanny. "I'm going to strip for them."

 

"Okay. You have underwear for that or a swimsuit?" I asked. I wasn't sure how she will control herself because she looked drunk already. 

 

"I got here and asked to use the bathroom, but I took some shots, so I'm a little giggly," said Fanny. "I'm just going to pull Eric and Tim into the upstairs bedroom and get them so drunk that they'll confess. I'll massage their feet and their back and do all kinds of acupressure and feed them vodka."

 

"Oh....Sounds .....I'm not sure, but I'm just going to pretend everything is okay," I said, breathing loudly and having a small panic-attack. "You don't think they'll attack you would they?"

 

"Nah....I think they're some kind of rich kids from Southern California," said Fanny. "They sounded tame."

 

"But they all can be assholes, Fanny," I said. 

 

"It's okay....I'll give them some of my gummi bears from the dispensary," said Fanny. "I asked my older brother to get me some for tonight." Fanny took out her small purse and showed me some packets of marijuana laced gummi bears. "This will make them relax and I can get them to tell the truth. I know they must be involved somehow."

 

"There are a lot of brothers downstairs. About ten or so, but Cliff and Merrick are the center of the crowd, so there won't be a problem getting them drunk. They'll all be drunk by the end of the night," I said. "Can I have some gummi bears? For Merrick and Cliff."

 

A call came into my cell phone and it was officer Fineman. "Get some statements and probable cause for concern and we can go in. Fanny, to get some confession, and Shane to get a confirmation. We need four men to confirm that it was a legal crime and set up. We got yours, Ike, they already labelled her.  Ursula's report came in today. Angelina brought her."

 

"Good," I said. "I'm not sure if I'd be able to do this so quickly, but I'm going to try."

 

I heard in the other room, Merrick and Cliff role playing two girls in competition for the same guy. 

 

"Black girls would shoot out Asian women anyday with pellet guns," said Merrick. 

 

"Or what's better, they'd ask another brother to drug them and get some rape on," said Cliff. 

 

Merrick and Cliff laughed it off, and told the crowd, "It's all natural selection. They wall want to get pregnant. They want to get some Halle Berry or Lisa Bonet babies or some Hapa kids, so they'd beat each other and kill each other, and get their black men to rape Asian women and vice versa. It's all bullshit!" 

 

"But you'd never do that, right?" said Shane.

 

"Right!!!!" said Cliff and Merrick as they both laughed. "We won, bros!" They both punched each other in the stomach and laughed and told each other, "Love me long time!"

 

"Asian girls are the best. They play it so cool like they study and everything, but they're all sluts. At least Black girls just blow and put out more. They'd be willing to get pregnant, like Latinas! They all just want to be a wife, but they gotta pay the price for that voting rights and representation," said Merrick and Cliff, laughing. "No matter, what...white men and black men and latino men won....the men won! Women are all so stupid!"

 

"They're willing to rape and kill and stalk and sabotage to get to me, and Cliff," said Merrick. "You know black girls and white girls will shoot pellet guns to Asian girls. Especially if they have a dowry. Then, they'd get the Latinas to get their Mexican gangster brothers to steal those dowries from their humble apartments to give them to me!" Cliff nodded.

 

"ASIANS ARE LOSERS! Supposedly they got the highest income rate....that's because it's all a political agenda to shut them down and to keep them happy so they won't say shit!" said Cliff. "It's all about black and white and if there is room, some mexicans, but no Asians...I hate Chinese Dolls!"

 

"Wait...you all had sex with the same girl or something? Sounds like you know the same things...," asked Shane, fishing for some controversy.

 

"What?" said Merrick. 

 

"What do you mean about that?" said Cliff.

 

"Just asking," said Shane.

 

"We did once....she's a beauty. Right Cliff," said Merrick.

 

"Oh yeah...a Chinese Puppet," said Cliff. He then laughed it off. 

 

I came back with some gummi bears, and gave a bag to Merrick and Cliff.

 

"Awww...we're friends," said Merrick. Cliff ripped open the bag and took some out, and gave some to Merrick.

 

My eyes were red and moist, because Shane almost cried. Shane was African American but he's never seen another African American being extremely racist with a racist white man. I thought the whole world was kind and everyone got along somehow, but never saw this much blatant racism before.

 

Tim and Eric both walked upstairs again, and they looked tired. They were about to go into one of the rooms, when Fanny walked in to the same room. I stood outside and waited in line for the bathroom along with some other college kids who were trickling in to the Blow Out party. I stood near Fanny.

 

"Hey cuties," said Fanny in the hallway to Tim and Eric.

 

"Hey fatso," said Tim. Eric just laughed and punched Tim on his upper arm.

 

"I want to play massage therapist. Wanna give me some of your fine bodies for practice?" said Fanny. "I'll do all the pressure points."

 

"Seriously?" said Eric. "I love massages."

 

"Yes, no charge...just because I can have you for a few hours, means the world to me," said Fanny. "Fine looking piece of art work brothers. You're both so gorgeous. My friend, here will join us to help out." Fanny pointed to me.

 

"We know we're gorgeous. Okay...no problem about your friend. He's kinda cute, in a dark and curly haired sort of way," as Tim replied as Tim and Eric looked at each other. "Let's do it in my room," said Tim.

 

"No...my room," said Eric. "It's got a sofa and carpeting."

 

"Ooohhh...I like carpeting. We can get silly on the floor," said Fanny.

 

"You're fat but so cute," said Tim. Eric giggled.

 

They walked into the room and I followed, pushing in the bugs hoping it won't fall off. Fanny has one bug but it's most likely strapped on her with her swimsuit.

 

"So how do you get to be so fine," said Fanny. "Do you play tennis?"

 

"It's all gym hours...you just gotta put in the time," said Eric. "It's no carbs and all vegan, proteins, fruits...the original good stuff and I'm so sorry you're fat, girl. No one ever taught you how to eat?"

 

"I'm fat because my Dad cooks good grub, boys. I can't resist," said Fanny.

 

"Oh, that's different. You're just a glutton," said Tim. "It's poor self-control."

 

I could tell Fanny almost burst out laughing because she felt that her size was an advantage and she knew she wasn't lesser than others. Fanny was a stallion in the self-confidence department. She knew herself and she knew she could do anything she put her mind to. "I'm Vietnamese, what are you guys?" asked Fanny.

 

"Chinese," said Tim. 

 

"Korean," said Eric.

 

"Gorgeous Asian men," said Fanny.

 

"Strong groups of men," I said.

 

"Basically, we're the rich upper class Asians, other people want to become," said Tim. "They wish...."

 

"What do you mean?" I asked. 

 

"What do all men want?" asked Tim. Eric smirked.

 

"Control," said Fanny. "And riches."

 

"Exactly. We got that...we got the upper hand with Merrick on our side. If we didn't, we'd be the outcast and we'd be the minority, just another Chinese and Korean, right. But, with Merrick and Cliff on my side. We're fucking unstoppable," said Eric.

 

"Do you do everything Merrick wants?" I asked. "What if it's a crime?"

 

"What's a crime if it's just a mistake?" said Tim. "Everything is forgiveable. Even God is on Merrick's side."

 

Eric opened the door to his room and let us all in. There was a nice bed with a flat screen across from it, two bedsides table and a desk with an Apple computer and small speakers. There was a golden frog to his bedside with a coin on its mouth.

 

Fanny's eyes gaped open because the trimmings of his bedroom had pictures of Absolut Vodkas in different advertisements and paintings of Monet and another impressionist on the wall. The place looked regal.

 

"Let's do a stupa stance first...just sit on the floor and breathe in an out and take off your shirts," said Fanny. She took out her back pack and took out some of her essential oils and Tiger Balms and some Biofreeze and her gummi bears. "These will relax you and it will help. Trust me, I've worked at a massage parlor before. My Dad owns one," said Fanny. 

 

"You're used to this women treating men like kings sort of shit, eh Fanny," said Tim. "That's how it is supposed to be. We're dominant and women and lesser than men. That's the Asian way. Subservient women gets the juice. If they're too strong, they might as well divorce me."

 

"Yes, master," said Fanny. Her eyes moistened and her cheeks were red.

 

"What should I do, Fanny," I asked.

 

"Massage Eric starting with the shoulders and his head first," said Fanny.

 

"Eric, have some gummi bears and smell these," said Fanny, giving him some Frankinscense and Eucalyptus Oils.

 

"Aaaahhhh......wonderful," said Eric. Tim and Eric were without their shirts and laying on the floor face down. 

 

Fanny took off their jeans, and they were in their boxers. "First, I'll massage your heads and their shoulders, then legs and torso and we do a whole body relaxation," said Fanny. "Then I'll strip and you can watch, boys."

 

I was about to laugh, but it was hilarious watching Fanny took control of these men when they both were boasting control and power and riches to her. 

 

"Tell me...how did you get so poor, Fanny," said Tim. "Did you do something illegal?"

 

"No...just an immigrant," Fanny said. 

 

"Me too, I'm an immigrant, too," I said to them.

 

"Oh...you're still on the bottom level. It's okay, start low, and you can get higher later," said Tim.  "We're born into money and we're basically set and no matter what we do....we're covered. Fanny, you should be thankful I'm letting you massage me."

 

"You should date black men, only, the ones in a gang, and be one of their bitches and represent the Asians who love Black people," said Tim. "That's what poor immigrants are good for. Push them out to the Black and Brown community."

 

"Yes, mister," said Fanny. Her bugs buzzed and I got a text from Officer Fineman.

 

"Pricks!" texted Officer Fineman. "Give them muscle cramps and twist them on the floor so they won't move. I want to arrest those pricks!"

 

"I have some muscle relaxers and have some more gummi bears," I said to Tim, giving him five more and Eric the same. I tore another bag open and Fanny began to question them.

 

"So control....what do you want in a woman?" asked Fanny. "So I'd know what to do."

 

"For her to shut up, first of all. Let us be the men, and hopefully their good cooks and good in bed. If they're too strong, we don't want them," said Eric. "We want someone who'd listen to us. Someone who'd sweep the floor, and we make the money, and they just shut up and do the work and get pregnant."

 

"I see...I like that....conservative but fair," I said, rolling my eyes. I had no idea these men still view women these ways. It was so archaic and so un-civilized.

 

"You know...especially if she's poor, she shouldn't do anything but just clean house. If she gets married...poor girls don't get the juice. They're slaves. They end up raped or work at Target," said Eric. "They're sad really...they'll be alone all of their lives."

 

"Why so?" I asked. "What do you mean by poor and what kinds of girls do you like."

 

Fanny massaged Tim's head and his face looked relaxed as he kept chewing on gummi bears. They were both very relaxed and happy and Tim continued to breathe in and out.

 

"What kinds of women do you date?" asked Fanny.

 

"All kinds, but mostly Asians. Rich ones, only. Nice families and the poor ones, we don't want. They got issues, and we all know they need therapy. They need to work first," said Tim. 

 

"They all have their own salvation," said Eric. "It's so ugly to befriend an ugly and poor girl, she's gotta be a nuisance."

 

"How so?" I asked. 

 

"They grovel and want acceptance and they start asking you out and shit. They have no self confidence. But, I like the girls who pay for everything. Those girls are winners. Or the kinds who pay half....love them. They got some money. But ultimately, we want them to shut the hell up and just clean the floor," said Eric. "A lot of girls have something to prove now...all them bitches are just bitchin about other  bitches. It's tiring. They all want me, so they fight to get there."

 

"So there is this Chinese girl, we had, and Merrrick loved her. Angel. She's pretty but poor as dirt," said Tim. "You know she's got no future."

 

"What do you mean?" Fanny asked. "You can work to get to where you want to be."

 

"She's got no hope. She's Indonesian or some hell hole place like that. She's from a small island, like those Burma, Laos, Nepal and all those irrelevant places. So, she was going out with a rich white guy..and you know those girls are sell outs. They want half breed kids, but they have no money to afford the status so they won't get white men. She's a victim," said Tim. "I saw it a mile away. They belong with some guy from Compton, and the blackest man and the ugliest Mexican there is."

 

"What do you think she should do?" I asked.

 

"Just work at a smoothie place, get a dead-end job or something. You know she won't be cultured enough and smart enough to get anywhere," said Tim. "She got raped...that's all I'm saying. Those girls, they need to pushed out, before they become competition to natives and American born boys and girls like me."

 

"Because she was an immigrant and poor?" I asked. "So you're saying she needed to get pushed out because she's from some irrelevant place?"

 

"Because she's pretty and poor, and she became competition because of the rich guy she's dating," said Eric. "We eliminated that bitch. Merrick has to win. He's first priority. Plus, she's an immigrant. So natives comes first. She's good as dead."

 

"Oh, she's raped now, by whom?" I asked. 

 

"Not telling, but I heard she's a good lay," said Tim. Eric and Tim high fived. 

 

Fanny started running the middle of Tim's calves and softly placing another gummi bears into his mouth.

 

"I liked her, she was soft," said Tim. "She's got a nice body."

 

"Cheerleader and cute, too," said Eric. "She's got creamy skin." 

 

"But, poor and an immigrant," I said. 

 

"Poor soul," said Fanny, as she kept rubbing the middle of Tim's calves. 

 

"You know she needed to be dead. She might become a threat to me and Eric, and other Asian American born girls. She was a threat to Merrick and his sister. So the bitch is out," said Tim.

 

"How did she get eliminated?" said Fanny.

 

"Not saying, but let's just say she's going nowhere," said Eric. "Probably be some maid of some shit like that."

 

"I don't approve of her being the wife of a rich white guy," said Tim. "I'm fucking jelly belly on her ass."

 

"I hear ya," said Fanny.

 

"I don't want her to see the Hamptons, Cape Cod, New York and live in Manhattan and eat at fancy restaurants," said Tim. "I don't want to see her live near an ocean, and let's just say, The Hamptons and Long Island has no Asians there. I'm going to be the first Asian there and Eric is coming with me."

 

"Right?! I'm for ya, Tim. I hate that Indonesian bitch," said Eric. "I hate seeing her with Colin. He's too pretty for her. She's a rude ass bitch. She should ask for permission to date anyone, Period."

 

Fanny's eyes swooped down as she knew how difficult it was for her to meet any guy, let alone, a good man, or any race. She could throw some flirty comments to Shane, but because of this, I was not sure if Fanny wanted to date at all anymore. I was happy Angelina met us, and knew that kids in high school didn't think the way these fraternity men thought.

 

"First of all, it has to be both ways. It has to be profitable for the man and the women. If she's poor, she can't do nothing for you. You just live on love? What bullshit is that?" said Tim.

 

"Right? And then if you don't have education, like those homeless people, and homeless kids, they got to benefits to be with. They're nothing," said Eric.

 

"Merrick and Cliff was right. It's white first, then black, then latinos, and we come last unless we pave our way into the system. We gotta play with their games," said Tim. "That's how you get the juice."

 

"That Angelina of what ever the fuck her name is...that Indonesian bitch, she's gone, man," said Eric. "She tried to get ahead and do some kind of get rich quick sort of thing by dating a gorgeous white guy and the owner of a franchise for goodness sakes. What was she thinking? She knows she's gotta give that shit to the white people and black people first."

 

"Right?" said Tim. "See, Fanny, we're the Asians who will make it to the top. We play with the white man and we are good to the black man, and we help the Latinos and the community. I'm so happy that Indonesian bitch is gone. She's a fucking sacrifice."

 

I pulled some hairs out of Eric's head as he screamed. "What the hell? Why did you pluck out my hair?" said Eric. 

 

"Some white ones...sorry. You'd want it out, if you saw it," I said.

 

My cell p hone buzzed, and it was Office Fineman, as he texted, "Get them to say her whole name, and where they saw her."

 

"What's the name of the Chinese-Indonesian bitch you both are talking about?" I asked.

 

"Angelina Lee," said Eric. "She was at Merrick's party."

 

"Confirm that," said Fanny.

 

"I have to go downstairs," I said, suddenly and walked out the door to take a breath. "Hypocrites assholes."

 

Down at the living room, there were more people as more college kids arrived, and Merrick and Cliff moved to the backyard. I walked towards them, and saw Shane at the doorway.

 

"Be careful, they're talking about priorities," said Shane. "They're saying white gets white and black gets black and latinos gets latinos and so on. The only ones who can marry inter-racially are the rick people and the people with good backgrounds with money. Other wise, white people and other races shouldn't do out with them."

 

"Wow...they got that down to a system?" I said.

 

"So men," said Merrick as I walked next to Shane and stood to the back of Merrick with Cliff on his stool sipping more beer. "United States in the Super power of the world. We gotta keep that shit up! White people are the most powerful people in the world, and now with Black people who rose to the top, like Sean John, and all those assholes, Black people are the next powerful people, and then we will give way to Latinos, and Asians comes last, because in America, they got the healthcare and the computer shit. Let them work for us. The rest of the people like those Indonesian bitches, Burmese, Nepalese..and the others, they're irrelevant. They gotta work first. They did nothing for the Civil War, or the Korean War, or the Vietnam War, and if they're immigrants, they know damn well they're not joining the military. They're fucking cowards. You know they don't want to marry everyone, they just want white, and we won't give them that. Push them out. Push them out till they are no more, and that's by any means necessary," said Merrick.

 

Cliff nodded, and he added, "First let the bitches prove by letting them put out for black men first. If they don't wnat to sleep with black men or latinos, we take their right, and give them a little something to help them out."

 

"Confirm that," said Shane.

 

From the background, I heard Fanny with Tim and Eric dancing on the dining table as Tim and Eric were obviously so high from the gummi bears, and they were drinking beers and Eric was slapping his own butt in circles.

 

"It's all high altitude in this house!" said Fanny. "Get high, y'all!"

 

Officer Fineman and his team in street clothes entered the house, and they had tazer guns on them, and quickly swept the floor and moved everyone out of the house. Outside, there were several buses and they took the party goers into the bus to clean the house.

 

Fanny held on to Eric and Tim, and kissed Tim, and told him, "I know...you want all Asian girls to sleep around and give everyone some to further your political agenda, right? Sounds like bullshit to me. I know my place in this world. And you're under arrest." She pushed Tim down from the table and Eric was handcuffed by one of the Boulder and Larimer County Policeman.

 

Outside, Office Fineman stood behind me, and overheard Merrick said to his whole audience of men, "We gotta make sure every Asian girl gives some blows to everyone. Make them sleep around and put them down, they're a fucking threat, and make sure Black women become their enemies and don't forget to use our Latinas to get their violence on them to make sure they won't take our American Assets. Us, rich white men, and rich black men and rich latinos need to stick together. We have to control this country, and I've got my hands and feet dipped with the Asians, don't worry, we can control chinks."

 

"Son, we have a positive count of at least one sexual assault under your name and an investigation on this second serial rape with multiple suspects. We are taking you in, and if you resist, we will be forced to take you under our hands," said Officer Fineman. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you don't have one, one will be appointed for you..."

 

Merrick and Cliff tried to resist, but Shane and I caught the tazer guns and tazed them, and they convulsed and the other brother stood back and remained silent. 

 

"If you are a part of this fraternity, you will be questioned by the attorney and summoned for a subpeona for further investigation," said Officer Fineman. The other police man handcuffed Merrick and Clif, and took Tim and Eric in two separate police vehicles. 

 

I immediately went outside and vomited on the grass.

 

Fanny ran outside and sobbed and Shane hugged her. "Don't worry," said Shane. "Our future is bright. People will change."

 

***

 

The next day, Angelina and I went to The Peak Lounge in Denver, at an exclusive restaurant on the top floor of a fancy hotel with a view of the city from atop the sky-rise. Our view was all sky with our table facing the Mile High city at the rooftop level. 

        

After dinner, this will be the first time we will have our first taste of rum chocolate cake with mint ice cream. The rum sweetened the sensation of romance holding us together tonight.

        

"So how do you feel about Collin now, are you still into him?" I asked, taking a small bite of the rum chocolate cake.

        

"Not really, but I still feel not good enough for relationships. Sometimes I still wonder what it is that I can offer, with so much baggage now, at so young," said Angelina. "I am just scared that I won't be able to make you feel lucky to be with me."

        

"I feel lucky to be with you," I told her, as I looked into her eyes. "Angel, it's really not about being a certain status or having certain skills or qualifications. I'm just into you, Angel. And I don't care about the violence. To me, you're just beautiful."

        

"Thank you, Ike," she answered. Her eyes told me, "I feel lucky to have you."

        

"I don't want you to keep going in life thinking that you're lesser than everyone just because Collin rejected you," I told her. "I sought you out, Angel. I hope you can see it. Perhaps it was the wrong time."

 

"I know, it's just that I think the world of him. I just still feel bad about how rough things have been for me," said Angelina.

        

"Why are you so hard on yourself?" I asked. "Not everything was in your control. You made mistakes, but I think you were hurt by someone."

        

"I didn't grow up thinking that I will become a rape victim. So I feel that everything I do now, will dictate the rest of my life," said Angelina, taking a bit of the mint ice cream.

        

"You're smart. You should give yourself credit for just aiming for the right choices," I said. "A lot of people have a lot of difficulties with just making choices. But, you don't, Angel. I think you're smarter and classier than what you give yourself credit for."

 

"I'm still having trouble accepting it," she said. "That will forever have PTSD and Depression. I feel abnormal."

 

"Do you have trouble accepting that I'm from a broken home?" I asked. "Or that I have a Jewish lineage?" 

 

"No, of course not. I would never judge you for those things," said Angelina, with a glowing smile. "I'm not that type of person who's so stringent on having perfect friends, with perfect lives or high statuses. I feel lucky we met. Very lucky."

        

"Well, to me, you're a hero," I told her. "A beautiful, loving, intelligent, and phenomenal hero."

        

"I'm so happy to be here with you," Angelina said, her smile alluring me. "I'm not attracted to just anyone, but your heart is very attractive." 

        

"Let's go," I told her, leading her outside to the balcony. I held her from the small of her back and led her to edge of the balcony. The whisp of the evening sky was so close to us as the radiant moon was visible with its glittering hallow around the sky diamond.  The moon fell in love with the stars tonight, emitting its glow so wholesome of its full beauty. "Attraction is more than just physical, Angel," I told her. "It's soulful, spiritual, emotional and mental. It's also how the treat you and their responses to you. Everything has been accounted for in heaven."

 

"I know, it's the same way I thought Merrick was beautiful, but his heart was not for me," said Angelina. "I think our spirit protects us, and leads us to the right people and if we aren't attracted to that person, there is a reason why."

 

"Look at the moon for me," I said to her, as Angelina looked towards the gibbious moon. I softly whispered into her ear, "Angel, you will make it in everything you do, and I will be a witness to it. Your success and happiness will be so contagious to everyone you meet."

 

I took her hair in between my fingers and told her, "You owe it to yourself to keep your self-worth and to hold your head up high. To know that you belong in this world, just as you are. No one, no matter how high their status is, has the right to place you beneath them." 

         

I kissed her shoulder and she cuddled close to me with the soft breeze wrapping us around each other.

        

"Thank you, Ichabod," Angelina replied.

        

"Everyone has some type of problem, Angel. You're okay. Put the negative thoughts aside," I said, as my lips slowly reached for her nape and kissed her. I felt her heart beating, as we held each other tight for a few moments to store the heating romance that was undeniably locking us under the stars.

        

A soloist comes to the stage inside the restaurant, sitting near the piano player. His soft raspy voice sang Frank Sinatra's 'The Way You Look Tonight.' He slowed the tempo, passionately carrying each note as if he was the jazz legend himself.

 

My heart beats my own song, tuning to my burgeoning love for her. My arm wrapped around her waist and her head rests on my shoulder as we danced the song away. Tonight was anything but prom-ish because underneath the simple dinner date was a relationship worth mentioning to angels.

 

 

Chapter 41 - Colin's Epilogue

 

 

Sure, blame the white guy. Since Trump became President, everything became the white guy's fault. First off, I was born normal and just a regular guy becoming a man. I wasn't involved with anyone. Until I fell in love with Angelina. It was physical, then became mental, spiritual and before we knew it, we were spending more time together than anyone else. It was so natural and so fresh.

 

I never knew all those things you all knew about Merrick and Melody and the Merrick chain wanting to merge. I supposed that's the author's discretion. But, from my perspective, I was the fall guy because I didn't know better. I knew how to be kind and stay out of people's way, and because of that, I was the fall guy. The prick, the asshole, the rich kid with no ethics, the spoiled brat, that everyone hated. 

 

My folks tried to protect me and they tried to protect themselves and our family name, but no one told us Merrick and Melody wanted to merge and do all types of unpredictable fraud to us. No one bothered to give us even a hint that all these nonsense were for the Johnson's attempt to rip my family off. They kept coming over, our house and dined in our restaurants, and of course we didn't know because we thought we were harassed by Angelina and her father, Tom. They wined and dined up the yin-yang to our family and my Dad was so impressed by them that they were choosing dinnerware to build another establishment to go nationwide.

 

It was a fine day on a Friday night when my Dad and the Johnsons were picking out menu items for the Eurasian concept we spoke about when my Dad received a phone call from our chain in Boulder. Supposedly, a school bus dropped off some twenty men and women from CU Boulder at the street corner where one of my chain restaurants were located. They were all crying because they said there was a rape case that they were all a part of and if they caused any trouble, they'd arrested. It turned out to be the fraternity party that Merrick belonged to, where there was as sting in progress and Merrick and his fraternity brothers were investigated for the rape that happened to Angelina.

 

 

I was at the State Forest Park Camping Ground, fifty miles north of Longmont in the mountains. I was enjoying the evening breeze with the sound of the rustling trees and the birds chirping. I took Melody out for the weekend to explore each other's bodies and spend some time in nature, as Melody described it, "to fertilize" the relationship. I picked up the phone at the camping ground.

        

"Yeah, it's me dad," I said, on the phone.

        

"Collin, get out of there. Merrick did it," said my Dad.

        

"What? Did what?" I asked.

        

"Merrick raped Angelina, I just found out. Go home, son. They're bad people," said my Dad. His voice was low and raspy like a wounded heart as he hung up the phone.

        

My feet were glued to the dirt as Melody cleaned the tent and placing some heart pillows that she packed from home, on top of the sleeping bags. She took off her shirt, revealing her pastel yellow bra with stencils of ice cream cones over each bra-cup. She laid down on her side inside the tent. "Collin, baby. Come in, I have to tell you something," she said, posing in her underwear. "Let's get down to business, as she pointed to her underwear."

        

I looked for my backpack that was near the bonfire and took out my camera to put it back into my own bag. I felt my face lost its glow because it was now confirmed that this budding relationship with Melody was based on violence, deceit, fraud and greed.

 

"I'll be right back, Melody," I said, with a blank face.

 

I walked to my car that was about a mile away while Melody was still waiting for me inside the tent. I just dismissed any concern for her well-being because Melody was inside the tent waiting to seal the deal on the merger of my family business, not love.

        

After a few minutes, I was a few yards near my truck and Melody yelled my name again. I ignored her and let her scream for help. I took my back pack and the flashlights. I quickly went into my car and turned on the engine and the high beams. I saw Melody running towards me in her ice cream bra and yellow pastel underwear, waving her hands.

 

"Merrick is being arrested, take me with you!!," Melody yelled. I pushed on the gas and reversed, as I heard her scream and my phone buzzed, "Get me a cab, Colin! What do you think you're doing! I'm a Johnson family!"

 

 

I hung up and never came to the forest again because the next week was graduation, and I was off to USC, where there might be more women like Melody or Angelina. I promised myself to screen my phone, my life and my friendships. 

 

Throughout all this, I knew everyone felt I was responsible and I felt the burden to help Angelina, but I was so scared and felt my boyhood disappeared that I was pushed forward to 45. Maturity was so difficult to grasp, and I wanted to help an Angel, but something went haywire along the way. I wanted forgiveness for my family, because we felt thrown in without warning about the drama we were pushed into. 

 

I loved Angelina Lee. I always will, but perhaps, it wasn't destiny. Perhaps, God's will was not for her to be with me, although it was my plan with a promise ring that I gave to Ichabod before I left to USC.

 

I told Ichabod to dodge any conversations with me in the past and to care for Angel, because I loved her and I wanted her forever, but the devil made the situation unmanageable and dirty. It wasn't containable. Violence, especially rape and stalking and fraud and slander and so many more things we were all guilty of, and I succumbed to selfishness for the sake of self preservation of my family and my well-being.

 

I wish there was a way out. At least I made it out alive. I pray for you to made it out of life alive too.

 

Adieu.

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Ichabod Frenzy - Chapter 39

Chapter 39 - Angelina

 

 

There were times when I fell in deep sorrows and Ichabod wasn't there, and Papa would help, only to be found in compassion fatigue. His sadness upon my life became more visible because I was his only daughter, and I was more vulnerable than ever before.  I had to ask for help, and Daisy was there, and we did the continued canine and equine therapy, but during the dark times and after midnight, my gut wrenched and my heartaches were so great that it infects my soul and jabs my spirit. 

 

This evening was one of those times, and no one was around as Papa worked late, and Ichabod and his friends were planning for the sting on The Blow Out fraternity party. I could only think of another human, almost mystical in being, but angelic in her heart, Leona.

 

"Leona, please pick up, please, please," I uttered to myself, dialing on my cell phone.

 

Surely and thankfully, Leona was there.

 

"Hi Angelina, how are you?" she said. "I meant to visit you or invite you over."

 

"I'm struggling, Leona," I said, as I began to sob. "My mind, it wounds in circles. I can't stop crying."

 

"Can you stay over at my house tonight? Tell your Papa, and you can stay here for the night, and we need to break some bondage for you," Leona said.

 

I love it when Leona spoke in a soulful language, it was as if she has the medicine I needed for my spirit, my mind, and my heart.

 

"Please pick me up, Papa used the car," I told her.

 

It took twenty minutes, but she arrived and I had told Papa that I needed to do another spiritual session with Leona for a holistic healing therapy. It felt brutal to my soul to not know what to do, but thankfully, I had resources that no one else had. I was privileged with access to Leona, and I knew not a lot of people accepted that holistic healing was essential for the soul, especially from the scars of violence.

 

When we arrived at her home, she took some pillows from her sofa and laid them down on the carpet. She lit some candles, then she went to the other room, and came out with a vial.

 

"This is holy water, that I asked from the Catholic Church, although I'm not Catholic, but I went to donate to their church for some holy water for you," she said. "We need it for the bondage breaking prayers."

 

"What is the bondage breaking prayers?" I asked.

 

Not having grown up in a spiritual home, I didn't know what I needed until I met Leona. Assault was so difficult, because I felt damaged through my soul, because my spirit was forcefully taken out of me, and even if I consented, sexual violence would damage anyone.

 

I felt my brain, my chest, my heart, my mind, and my thoughts were corrupted with negativities, anger, sorrow, depression, convoluted thoughts and confusion. I often became so lost in my own thoughts that I would disassociate and I confided in Bernadine and Daisy and my doctors for therapy, but nothing consoled my heart and nothing gave me peace.

 

"Bondage can be so many different things," said Leona. "It is whatever is separating you from truth, and often leads you to a broken path, temptation, abuse, violence, and it would be a hard sin. If you do believe in sin."

 

"I believe in sin, and I felt like a sinner," I told her. "I didn't know I was going to be raped, but I felt like it was my fault for being at the wrong place at the wrong time."

 

"It's not your fault," said Leona. "What's difficult is the persisting guilt, shame, negative emotions, anger, and those can lead to destructive behaviors. Often, we even compare ourselves to others, who don't even have the same walk in life."

 

"Can you help me, please?" I pleaded. "I know therapy helps, but there is a spiritual side of me who is thirsty for wholeness."

 

"That's holistic therapy, and often it's in the form of Christian Counseling, prayers, or even the therapy I gave you with tapping and so many more," said Leona. "Let's try bondage breaking prayers."

 

I knelt down on the carpet with the pillows as my cushions.

 

"First, let's have some tea," Leona said. "I have some Elderflower and Chamomile for you."

 

Leona went to the kitchen and brought out the Elderflower St. Germain, and took her tea cups with her. on a wooden serving tray. She had a spoon with her and Chamomile tea in a teapot. I took some Elderflower and poured on a few tea spoons in my tea cup. 

 

"We have to relax first, and when we pray, there will be tears, and I just don't want you to be so triggered that you'll have anxiety or more negative thoughts. So we stay here and do breathing exercises after the tea and start with the intercessory prayers," said Leona. "It's just prayers to break soul ties and demonic attacks."

 

"Soul ties and demonic attacks? That sounds massive," I said. My tears flowed down my cheeks, and I asked her, "I sometimes cry and I won't even know why, but it hurts in my heart and it feels so heavy in my soul and spirit and thoughts."

 

"That's PTSD and some bouts of Depression, and it's common. It manifests in so many different ways, negative thoughts, hormonal thoughts, fears, anxieties, and it can be from the demons of memories, or flashbacks or triggers that are often so miniscule," Leona said. "I will pray for strength, and surrendering to the Holy Spirit, and it helps with holistic healing and spiritual healing."

 

I nodded, and asked her, "Will it heal me?"

 

"It won't heal your PTSD and Depression, but it will help you understand what to do when you're hurting."

 

"Please help me," I said.

 

"Finish the tea, and lay down with the pillow underneath your head," said Leona. 

 

I drank the tea, and laid down on the carpet.

 

"Angelina, with your eyes open, can you tell me how you want to live your life?" asked Leona.

 

"I want to have a good life, a beautiful life, and a loving life, that I won't feel regret or heartaches when I look back," I said.

 

"Somethings are out of your control, but the things you can control are means, or ways of working things to get to a result," said Leona. "I want to tell you that if you want to have a good life, you have to try to give every means as a way to get to a good end. The means are the ends. If you want good, you have to do good. All the way."

 

"Thank you, Leona," I said. "For the things I can control, the means are the ends."

 

"Good, just so we are on the same page," said Leona. "Let's begin. Close your eyes and inhale deep and exhale out."

 

I closed my eyes and breathed in and out deeply, as I felt Leona stepped aside to fetch something and came back and knelt next to me. 

 

She uttered,

 

"Father God, it is with a humble spirit and downcast mind I come to You. Let mercy be upon my life, my soul, my spirit, my heart and mind. I was violated, and my soul felt damaged through my inner beings. Be with me, as I walk and as I talk and with every thought inside my mind, let Your anointing be a gift to me with sanity and wholeness. Be upon me and if my heart breaks, let it break so it will heal me, but live inside me, and shape me according to Your divine plans, for a life blessed with love, mercy, joy, peace, hope and faith."

 

Leona placed her palms on my forehead, and I felt her hand was soft and cold. I took in her words as healing verses to my life and my mind, calming me and helping me heal. 

 

She began to pray, "Father God, it is with humility, I ask for your protection, over me and my life, my walk, my thoughts, my actions, and over temptations. With every sin I acted upon, let it be thwarted out of me, and cast out evil and any deceit or harm towards me. I desire a life of love, healing, prosperity, success, and joy, with relationships around me, and those who support me."

 

Leona placed a sprinkle of holy water over my forehead with her hands.

 

"In the words of Psalms 18, It is God who avenges me, and subdues the peoples under me. He delivers me from my enemies, You, God, also lift me up above those who rise against me. You have delivered me from the violent man. Therefore, I will give thanks to You, O Lord, among the Gentiles. And sing praises to Your name.

 

Father God, separate me from those who pursue my life, and from destructive thoughts from the enemies, the vice and malice that enters my being, the fears and misfortunes that harms me, cast out the demons of irrationality and harm towards others, and self-harm or suicide towards myself. Cast out negative thoughts, fornications, hormonal actions on sex and demons of temptations, and break the sorrows from within my soul.

 

Father God, break the spirit of confusion, convoluted words, emotions, irrational mindsets, fears of anything that perchance would harm or deflect blessings from entering my life, the sabotages from those who caused ill wills or harms towards me. The stagnant catatonia, the disassociations, the mental illness, break the bondage over me, and over my mind, my heart, my soul and my life. Bring a steadfast spirit within me, and lift me up from the gutters of the past, the sorrows and fears and heartaches of yesterday, the evils done upon me, and the violence upon my body, my mind, my life, my spirit. Father God, save me, bring me to wholeness, and separate me from the devils that are at work, the evil prayers, the curses, crush the oppressions towards me, all the abuse, the pleads of the criminals, the stalking of those who would profit off me and my sufferings, and aid me in my struggles. 

 

Father God, break the spirits of harm and violence, the victim's mark upon my soul, the demons that entered me through force, hatred, anger, abuse, rape, whether sexually, physically, spiritually, in words, or literature, in pornography or visuals, or the demons of abuse through drugs and substances and assaults or any means necessary to the criminals and evils who harmed me, the fornications without permission where upon my dignity and sacred wholeness was destroyed. 

 

Father God, break the bondage of shame and guilt on my heart and my mind, my shame on my body and the filth associated with the abuse, the assaults and harm and the harmful thoughts that often felt like skin on my flesh, peel it off, pluck it out, and rebuke the guilt and shame off of me, from the devil and his minions."

 

I couldn't stop crying and I felt shame attacked me and I felt fear over my life as I realized that PTSD and Depression and Assault could harm for a lifetime. "Leona, please break the soul ties. I felt the people who raped me has control over me," I said.

 

"Father God, I break the spirits and soul who assaulted (.......insert name here.....) and cast out and thwart out and take out the soul ties damaging my heart that also destroys and disturbs my thoughts. Please cast out sexual ties and bondage and rebuke the demons, the blood shames over me, through any ways, or forms, whether through consensual sex, or assaults, or adultery, or fondles of body and spirits. Cast out the spirit of shame and sexual demons that forces to abuse, the trafficking, the use of my body and spirit and mind and heart for the demonic pleasures of man or woman or consummate groups of vile and harmful means.  

 

Father God, as a matter of fact, erase, break, and cast out the victim's mark and the evils of soul ties amongst all victims of violence, whether child abuse, molestations, assaults, adultery or polygamy or any crimes found and unfound, seen and unseen, reported and unreported. Break the soul ties and harmful sexual ties and the abuses of men and women to the victims, in every possible way, for all races, all religions, all ethnicities, and all nations, all cities, all countries, all ages, and all sexual identities. Father God, break the soul ties between the perpetrators and their victims, for the innocent to survive and to live in peace, to gain harmony and peace of mind. To bestow blessings for all who were harmed and to break soul ties to deflect harm and suicide and abuse towards the innocent. 

 

Father God, bring justice where there are or were none, and bring healing to places, people, cities, minds, hearts, homes, and lives with every need and dire circumstances. Where there are confusions, ridicule, shame and crimes, bring justice and truth and clarity into the situations and aid the innocent to survive and gain clarity and wholeness with a peaceful breath of fresh air into their lungs, their lives, souls, minds and hearts. Heal every soul in need of healing, hope and joy, God. Bring all the wounded into Your holy presence, place your healing arms around each one of them, and bring the blessings to shower and pour on the love into their futures."

 

Leona placed her palms over my eyes and annointed my eyes with her holy water. She uttered, "Let her visions be of love, and what is noble, beautiful, trustworthy, real, pure, healthy, sane, profitable for her life, and grounded in Your truth, and propiritous of love, joy, faith, hope and truth for her life."

 

She placed her hand over my hand, and uttered, "Bring those who will be instrumental to a healing journey and prosperous future, healthy relationships, supportive friendships and courtship. Loving and protective of her soul and life in every way."

 

I cried, because I didn't know what I needed to ask for, and what I needed to say in prayers to ask for healing.

 

"Leona, may I pray?" I asked her.

 

"Of course," said Leona.

 

"God, help me," I said. "I don't know what to do. Guide me and restore me, help me all the way, every instant of my life."

 

I opened my eyes, and Leona smiled at me. She had a most endearing face upon me as I laid on the carpet.

 

"I need you to get up and drink more of the tea and we will repeat 'I Am" statements," said Leona.

 

I got up from the carpet and sat cross-legged on the carpet. I took another cup full of the chamomile tea and wiped the tears from my face. 

 

"Repeat after me, (....insert name here.....) Angelina," said Leona.

 

"I am God's masterpiece, made of the same particles of stars and the heavenly bodies, made to perfection."

 

"I am made Imago Dei."

 

"I am royalty. I am of God's royal bloodline."

 

"I am human, a woman (or man) or valor, and honor, and I deserve a good journey in life."

 

"I am made of truth, not lies, and I will listen to truth and not the lies of the enemies disturbing my thoughts."

 

"I am not a victim, but a brilliant woman (or man), and deserving of a compassionate life."

 

"I am a genius. I will heal and thoroughly, I will love again."

 

"I am beautiful. I was and am, and will always be."

 

"I am a living being, and life is in me."

 

"I am alive, and I will enjoy my sunrise as if it's my last."

 

"I am, with God."

 

I repeated every word, and the chamomile slowly drifted me away. 

 

"I fixed the guest room for you, Angelina," said Leona.

 

Leona took me to the guest room, and I rested till the morning.

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