A/N: I don't own ZIM, or any corresponding characters. No suey me.
Dear Dib,
A pen scratched across the surface of a yellowed piece of paper. The handwriting was loopy, and feminine. Oddly, it was also shaky, and forced looking, like the writer was nervous about writing this particular letter.
I'm not quite sure how to write this… The pen scratched, shaking its way along the paper. I've tried to write you so many times before, but…
The pen stopped. It seemed that whoever was writing this was having difficulty expressing what they were feeling. There was a long pause, during which the writer tapped the pen against the dimly lit mahogany desk upon which they were writing, before finally beginning again.
But I could never find the words that sounded right. I would always go off on some completely different subject because I got so nervous!
…I've always wanted to write you, Dib, even before you became famous.
I never cared about that.
Do you remember when we were young? I always used to dream about you. You were always like some kind of hero to me. I know everyone thought you were insane; insane for thinking ZIM was an alien but…I never did! I never thought you were insane!
NEVER.
You were…the only person I liked in that class, all those years ago. No one else liked me. Well, except that kid with the webbed toes, but he always creeped me out. Though, I guess that's not the point…
You were the only one that treated me decently.
The writer exuded a long sigh as the pen continued to scratch increasingly shaky letters against the paper. It seemed they were reaching the point of the letter.
I remember the day, Valentine's Day, the day that I got up the courage to give you those Valentine's meats. I had made so many for you. You didn't even seem like you cared. And THEN that GIRL, that new student, I don't remember her name, SHE entered the class.
The pen dug deeper into the paper, almost ripping it with the sheer ferocity of the writer's strokes.
And I was completely forgotten. No, not forgotten. I suppose you have to be NOTICED to be forgotten.
There was another pause in the pen's movement, as it pressed itself into the paper, making an ink mark that slowly bled into a blurry circle.
But…I forgive you.
I forgive you for going off, a few years after that. For proving that ZIM was an alien and leaving out town. For leaving ME.
Plop. A drop of water fell from the face of the writer, onto the paper, warping the most recent sentence.
You're always on the TV, now, proving some paranormal thing or another. Always with another girl hanging off of your shoulder and I always wonder, "Why can't that be me?"
It should have been me!
I was your original fangirl, Dib.
I was always there, on the sidelines, cheering you on whether you knew it or not.
You never noticed. NEVER.
You never noticed that I LOVED you, Dib.
The writer had to stop. The writing had become so messy that it was barely legible. The pen was vibrating madly in the writer's hand, and could only be stopped by pressing it down against the paper. The hand was still shaking.
I loved you, Dib… the pen repeated.
Maybe, if this letter ever reaches you, you'll know that…
There was a long pause, as the writer looked over the letter, not looking exactly pleased with the work. Finally, the pen was placed down on the paper for the final time.
Love, Your Original Fangirl, Gretchen
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A/N: Well, honestly, the only reason that I can think of for me to have written this was because of the song "Hackensack". It reminded me SO much of Gretchen, and I just couldn't get it out of my head.
Needless to say, this is in the future, and Dib's actually a successful paranormal investigator.
I don't think I have anything else to say about this…except that I enjoyed writing it.