"Ugh, mom…" Sara groaned, covering her face now exposed to powerful rays of morning sunlight. The crisp golden warmth may have been pleasant if it weren't for the fact that Sara wanted nothing more than to return to sleep. "It isn't even a school day…"
About to leave the room with the door opened, Mama Murphy sang from the doorway, "No excuse to sleep all day, honey. Are you doing okay…?" Slithering out of her bed in hostility, Sara whined wordlessly. Mama Murphy took this as a no. "Have you been writing those positive letters to yourself, honey? Dr. Brenner said to tell yourself 'today is gonna be a good day, and here's why'."
"Right, I almost forgot about my best friend Dr. Brenner," Sara mocked her mother insensitively.
A sigh escaped Mama Murphy's lips before she promptly strolled out of the doorway and back into the hall. Alone, and distraught, Sara leapt over to her computer desk and began typing. "Dear… Sara Murphy…" She spoke aloud as she typed up on her keyboard.
Dear Sara Murphy,
I know it hasn't been easy on you lately. Everyone tends to ignore you sometimes, and you don't have as many friends as you'd like. But if you take your time, and be kind to yourself, everything will be all right. Don't sweat the small things. And even in the darkest moments, try to find peace with what light remains.
She gazed into her screen, deeply rereading her letter to herself. It looked like cliché slam poetry to her, and that made her unhappy. Sara inched her index finger towards the delete button. And she accidentally printed the document. Great. The family printer, which was not in her room, could be heard in the distance whirring and clicking. She rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to facepalm at herself.
Sara preferred not to move too much yet, but planned on getting it later. Yet she forgot.
"Wow, what's this?" Doofenshmirtz said to literally nobody, retrieving a single paper from the the printer. "Dear Sara Murphy… oh, this is a fax? In 2019? Hey, is this a fax?" No one was nearby to reply to him as he rambled to himself. "Okay… guess it's a fax. Definitely." He folded it neatly and slipped it into his pocket. Despite intending to give it to Sara, he didn't, and forgot of it entirely.
What no one knew and expected was that this would lead to a tragic web of lies. A sequence of events so dismal, so unfortunate, that it seems unfair how it all began. One accidental click of the print command key, one forgotten delivery. And one fit of heart palpitations.