I'm on fire! It's been one day since writing Of History and Painful Memories, and I'm already writing this one! I'm a COTT writing Addict, I tell you!
Disclaimer: I don't own this. At all. So don't sue.
In the event of My Death.
Dearest Atlanta,
If you're reading this, then I'm dead. I know that it's likely that I'll die in this fight, prophecy or not. I flatter myself into thinking that you're going to take it kind of hard.
While part of me appreciates it, I really wish you wouldn't. (If I'm wrong, by the way, don't correct me.)
This isn't the first one of these letters I've written. The first came out like something from a trashy romance novel. The second sounded like something Neil would have written, and the less said about the third, the better. So here we are, with the fourth, and hopefully final, letter, and I'm babbling.
I've put a lot of thought into what I wanted to say in this letter. I thought about writing a poem for you, but I thought that was cheesy. I thought about drawing some kind of picture, but I can't draw, so that one was right out.
And now you're getting annoyed, because I still haven't come to the point of this little exercise in self inflicted humiliation.
I love you.
There. I said it. Or wrote it. Anyway, you get the idea.
I've always loved you. Ever since that day, outside the Brownstone when you tackled me, you've been the only girl that I've ever cared about. I've tried, so many times to tell you, but I've always chickened out. I don't have many regrets in life but that's the worst.
That's why I had to write this letter. I couldn't bear the thought that you would go through life not knowing how I felt about you.
If you're reading this, then I'm dead. But I died fighting evil, and trying to make the world a safer place for you. Because if your reading this then you survived. And that thought fills me with more joy then you will ever know.
With deepest love,
Archie Redford
The Purple Haired Dork
Review please. And thanks to everyone who read Of History and Painful Memories.