AN: I know you guys have seen Haku's letter to the editor, and I didn't want Chihiro to feel left out. She has been complaining about her deep, spiraling depression lately, so I thought, you know... ;D
But like I own?
Guys,
I'm ten years old. I don't much appreciate being sent into random, spiraling depressions because I actually had lunch or whatever. Or because my parents threw me against the wall after I didn't make them dinner again. Really, my parents don't beat me up and I don't have panick attacks every time I eat a bowl of rice. So please... just stop. I don't want to be woken up in the middle of the night because one of you decided to make me back talk and decided I would break an arm... AND MIRACULOUSLY HEAL THE NEXT DAY!
My parents are not like that.
And would you stop changing my name? I'm not a slice of liver nor am I some fat american pig named -insert preppy schoolgirl name here- who wears skirts that can't be more than two inches long and shirts that suffocate me to death. But, wait, they can't suffocate me, can they? Because I'm Super Chihiro/-schoolgirl name here- who never gets hurt or disgraced.
And there's one final thing I would like to touch on. It's kind of important, really. I don't appreciate cutting myself because I gained half a pound, or because nobody pays attention to me and I'm all alone and Haku broke his promise, yadda, yadda, ya. And... I'm not sure I wear such things as super-tight skinny jeans and emo shirts that hang past my knees (I'm not sure how I manage to not trip on them. Oh, wait, that's where you guys come in, isn't it?) although I'd prefer them to the cheerleader outfits you guys put me in.
I guess that's it, isn't it? I just wanted to let you guys know I don't appreciate your crappy - sorry, fanfic Haku must be rubbing off on me - stories of me.
So I want you to stop.
If you can.
But you probably can't, because the real me isn't perfect enough to insert yourselves in.
Thanks, I Guess,
- Chihiro