Veronica Sawyer was never one to receive letters. They had phones now— well they were merely attached the walls or used in houses but why write letters when a new source of communication was right there? The 17-year-old asked herself this as she looked at the envelope her mother had given her, "It's for you," she had told Veronica. She flipped over the envelope and her dark hues blinked in confusion as she read the words on the front of the white paper. 'From Veronica Sawyer' was written down in her very own handwriting.
"This has to be a prank," Veronica scoffed to herself as she stuffed the envelope into her backpack. It had to be a joke, hell, Veronica could forge handwriting so that means anybody else could right? It still irked her and protruded her thoughts, what was the letter about? She didn't remember writing a letter to herself, who does that? The teenager decided to put it aside for now, today was the first day of senior year. She wasn't exactly excited about it— it's high school why would she be enthusiastic? Veronica was nothing special in the school's caste system and hung out with her best friend, Martha. She couldn't help but long for the feeling of popularity and attention. The exact feelings the Heathers felt. Heather Chandler, the one who always wore her signature crimson red and was in all honesty, a mythic bitch. Heather Duke, green for her envy of Heather Chandler's power. Then Heather McNamara, yellow for possibly the nicest out of the three. She still did shitty things but seemed to be the Heather that at least held sympathy.
Veronica's envious thoughts were interrupted when the bell rang to signal first period was starting. Ten minutes had passed and it seemed that their teacher wasn't showing up any time soon. Many students cheered and 'whooped' as they began to move around to socialize due to the lack of supervision. Veronica thought it was a reasonable time to observe the mail she had gotten, she assumed it was a letter of some sort. Her hands pulled out the envelope and she opened it up almost eagerly with curiosity.
'Hello myself from ten years ago, how are you?', was the first sentence that caught Veronica's attention. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she read on. Ten years ago? Was this letter from herself ten years in the future?
"Oh my god," Veronica said under her breath.
'You must be very confused, I know. But please, listen to this letter. Ten years in the future, I have many regrets that I would like to erase. It starts with the first day of senior year. There is a page for each day. I will list events that happened that day and what I want you to do that I regret not doing/doing. You will understand soon.' Veronica's eyes glanced at the bullet points listed below.
It's September 1st, 1989. First day of senior year.
I wore a floral-like dress, a denim jacket, my flats, and a scarf that I stuffed into my backpack.
Veronica looked down at her outfit and she nearly gasped out loud, the letter was right. It was exactly what she was wearing.
Today is the day I become part of the Heathers.
I'm now seen as '"the blue one", we became acquainted after saving their asses from Ms. Fleming in the bathroom.
Veronica snorted to herself, "Yeah right. They would never want good ol' Roni in their little clique off theirs." She put the letter away into her backpack once again as the teacher walked in hastily.
The teenager didn't glance at the first task she was asked to do in the letter;
'I always wondered how things would've ended if I had stayed in the bathroom stall, if I had not forged that hall pass, if I had not gone to the bathroom at all. Maybe my regrets would not be as painful. Do not go to the bathroom during third period.'
Veronica's eyes never read that request until after school. The teenager had completely forgotten about the letter that was sent to herself that morning and strode over to the school's bathroom during third period. It was the class that seemed to bore her the most, mathematics wasn't in her area exactly. She pushed open the door to a bathroom stall and feminine voices began to ring out as the door of the bathroom opened up. Veronica's eyes widened as she realized the voices were coming from the Heathers who had visited the bathroom to pamper themselves.
"Grow up Heather, bulimia's so '87," Heather Chandler scoffed to the female who had rushed into a stall beside Veronica, vomiting horribly. Veronica's face scrunched in disgust as Heather Duke threw up, the sound echoing throughout the bathroom. Heather McNamara's voice could be heard but it was in a soft and genuine tone, much different from Chandler's tone.
After a few more moments of Duke throwing up, Ms. Fleming and Veronica's face brightened as she heard this, this was possibly her chance to communicate with the powerhouses of Westerburg. She hastily scribbled a 'hall pass', the handwriting matching the yearbook teacher's exactly. Veronica cleared her throat awkwardly as the Heathers and Ms. Fleming turned to face the brunette with surprise. They had not noticed her.
"Uhm, Ms. Fleming! All four of us are out on a hall pass. Yearbook committee," Veronica trailed off as Ms. Fleming examined the piece of paper, glancing at Veronica suspiciously. Heather Chandler eyed her up and down with an expression that Veronica could read as shock or confusion.
"I see you're all listed… hurry up and get where you're going." Ms. Fleming gestured with her hands as she clicked her tongue and stepped out of the bathroom. The note Veronica had forged was instantly snatched from her hands by Chandler who looked at the hall pass, then Veronica, then back. Her dark green eyes settled on Veronica as she held the note in her hand.
"This is an excellent forgery. Who are you?" Heather demanded as McNamara stood behind her almost timidly, Duke soon came beside the two teenage girls.
"Uhm— Veronica Sawyer. I crave a boon."
That was how it all started.
The Heathers gave Veronica the ultimate makeover. She couldn't help but feel like a Barbie doll who was being poked and penetrated by little girl's hands. Veronica reminded herself that they were making her beautiful. She would finally be viewed as one of them. Top of the school, powerful, popular, somebody who was worth everybody's eyes. Veronica felt absolutely amazing as she walked out to the school's halls beside the Heathers, clad in a blue blazer along with a very short skirt. Her hands kept fidgeting with the article of clothing for the length made the teenager uncomfortable at the slightest. Although, boys seemed to be interested. It made Veronica's confidence spark as people seemed to cheer for her but a wave of guilt rushed over the brunette whenever she caught a glance of Martha in the corner. Whenever their eyes met, Martha gave Veronica a sweet and kind smile. Veronica always returned it.
When Veronica had arrived at her humble abode later that day, a big grin was plastered on her porcelain face. Her mother was glad to see Veronica in such an enthusiastic mood yet her father eyed her short skirt suspiciously.
"Veronica, where'd you get that?" He had asked which lead to Veronica rolling her dark hues that were very much similar to her father's.
"Relax dad, I made new friends. This is the new thing!" Veronica exclaimed with a giggle. Her father's eyebrows shot up as the teenager bounced up the stairs to her room.
"Honey, she never giggles. Hell— I've only heard her giggle when she was a baby," her father told his wife with a worried expression.
"She's a girl, Robert. Let her be," Veronica's mother said with a smile as she placed her hand on Veronica's father's shoulder. He was always protective over his little girl.
Veronica sighed as she overheard this reaction but the grin never left her face. It was a beautiful day. It truly was. Her hands rummaged through her bookbag and they grabbed ahold of the envelope that was now creased and folded at the edges. She threw off her blazer and delicately placed it on the edge of her bed. Veronica pulled out the multiple papers from the white envelope and she furrowed her dark brows as she read the last bit of the letter that had today's date on it. Veronica hadn't seen that exact part before shoving it into her bag. She chewed on her bottom lip as she thought to herself, this was what happened to herself ten years in the future, right? If she had asked Veronica not to go to the bathroom; it meant she had become a Heather. Veronica was conflicted about whether she should listen to the words inked on the paper, it could've been some stupid practical joke. Her eyes flicked back to the bullet points listed and she cursed mentally, it couldn't have been a prank if the events listed actually occurred.
"Today is the day I become part of the Heathers."
"I'm now seen as '"the blue one", we became acquainted after saving their asses from Ms. Fleming in the bathroom."
That had all happened at school, Veronica realized. She was now apart of the Heather's and Chandler had 'assigned' her the color blue. It didn't make sense and simply wasn't logical. How would herself ten years from now send a letter to the past? Veronica groaned and flopped onto the bed, laying an arm across her face in distress. Maybe it was best to follow the letter's commands and requests. She remembered the whole purpose for the goddamn thing. It was to erase her future self's regrets.
"What will I regret?" Veronica said under her breath and she sat up hastily, picking up the rest of the paper. There were at least ten sheets of the white material, sweet Jesus. What if she looked ahead…? Her fingers skimmed the edges of the paper cautiously, would it affect anything? "Fuck it," she cursed out and read the date in the left hand corner on the next paper. Veronica raised an eyebrow in confusion, it had skipped 3 weeks.
Shit, had she lost some of the letters? Three weeks worth of warnings and requests from her future self? Veronica picked up the inked paper and her eyes skimmed the words effortlessly.
You're probably freaking out over how it suddenly skipped three weeks ahead. This was intended, Veronica. Nothing was lost. I promise.
Veronica sighed in relief as she continued to glance at sentences, barely getting the context from skipping over paragraphs and bullet points. Although, one sentence stood out to her.
Today is the day Jason Dean walked into my life.