I do not own Shugo Chara. Thanks to all who reviewed! I'm a girl, so don't think I'm bashing, but I've noticed this attitude a lot in females and it sort of annoys me. Not that it always happens, but I feel it's fairly common.

OooOooO

Dear (Girl?) who is in no way more well mannered than me,

As if I care why your friend was depressed. And I don't need you to tell me why either. Since your words ring as those of a female, I am going to assume that your friend is a female, probably troubled because of a guy. If a girl is sad, or in general upset, it is because she usually feels morally jilted or otherwise severely wronged, not just by her dirt bag of a boyfriend, but by the male sex as a whole. I'm sure she'll get over it.

But lets move on, shall we?

The more I go to English class, the more I feel the will to live slowly leave my body. Don't get me wrong - English is all fine and dandy, helpful, and rather necessary for life. I'm just sort of at a loss as to why we have to read books that, in my opinion, do not further our education or better our lives.

Allow me to explain.

Shakespeare I understand. The guy was like a genius. Certain classics I understand, although granted some of them can be dull. There are others, however, that I can find no redeeming qualities in.

Take "The Scarlett Letter" for instance. I realize it's supposed to be a masterpiece of literature, and that the author was supposedly disgusted with his roots and all that lovely drama, but I was completely unimpressed.

All the guy was really doing was showing off is vocabulary in the most arrogant way possible. All his symbols are an attempt to make him look deep and profound, and again, he does this to boast about his IQ. And what was with the ending? Really? Dimmesdale dies in the most dramatic way possible, Hester goes away, nothing really happens that we haven't foreseen. Lazy writing, all the way.

Although, I must admit, my English class is fairly interesting. Mainly due to the teacher and students that attend the class. We're an odd bunch, but it amuses me nonetheless.

Yesterday I headed down to the IceCream Shop, and shock of shocks, I found several things.

The first thing: It was already packed with the extremely vocal species that we both belong to (or at least I hope you belong to it as well) commonly known as the teenager.

Teenager: Ages fourteen to eighteen. Can typically be found trying to act unique when they in fact stereotype themselves. Very loud.

The second thing: A zombie waiter(ess.)

Zombie Waiter(ess): The person who takes your order begrudgingly. They usually have an annoyed look on their face, and act as if they loathe their jobs (it's quite possible that they do.) Very likely to mess up the order because of lack of caring. Will become vicious if you point out the error.

You can imagine how happy I was to have Ice cream there.

I was with my sister, who unlike your own (or so I gathered), is only a year younger than yours truly. It was then that things began to go downhill.

My sister (let's call her Jane to make things simpler) was up there ordering, and I already had my ice cream and had sat down when this guy comes in.

Now I don't mean to sound judgmental, but I could tell that this guy was just a little off his rocker. So I'm just sitting there harmlessly when he comes over.

He had a long beard and hair, shaggy clothes that were in desperate need of a wash.

So he hands me an old card, probably from a children's card game, that has a joker on it. And he's all like "Find her for me."

I don't say anything, which I suppose I should have, but what was there to say?

But he just walks out and I'm left with this worn out joker card that has a date written on it. And I'm supposed to find some lady for him, which is really dumb because I know nothing about anything. Why are all these bizarre things happening?

I too have not recovered my toaster.

Sincerely,

Guy (it doesn't hurt to say it) who now owns a meaningless playing card

OooOooO

Dear Guy who must be the picture of negativity,

And I'm the negative one? I just had a bad day. It sounds to me like you're always in a bad mood.

As far as my gender, I have to admit that you're very astute. I am in fact a female. I was hoping that I wasn't so transparent, but apparently I need to work on it.

Ha! There is one thing that you did get wrong, and that being of my friends distress. She was not, in fact, upset about a male. Her sorrow had absolutely, one hundred percent, completely, wholly, nothing to do with dating or relationship drama. Here you have failed, my shrewd friend, here you have failed.

I must admit, your take on English class rings fairly true. I have often wondered who tags things as classics, and why they pick the things they do. The majority of them should be fired.

Although, and I must be honest, my problem stems more from homework. I detest homework. I find it deplorable, and often find myself not finishing all of it. I do just enough for a decent grade, but not so much that I spend all my time doing it. When I was younger I just kept at it, but nowadays…I've sort of slacked off.

Your joker card problem is cool but also kind of creepy. By creepy I mean that it's like…what if this guy is a raving lunatic? What if he follows you home and kills you or something? He sounds like he isn't right in the head, so if I were you, I'd be locking my doors.

If you don't want the card then I'd be happy to have it, however. It's a sort of neat souvenir, and I think you should, at the very least, keep it, despite not knowing how to find "her" and the like.

I'd say more, really, but my time is more limited than your own. I can add nothing more than to mention that the disappearing toasters are really starting to get to my nerves.

With all the sincereness I can muster,

The girl with the short letter

OooOooO

On Saturday morning when I stumbled down to breakfast I found the newspaper staring up at me from the table. This was not by any means something that would usually catch my attention, nor would it have had it not been for the headline.

Rash of Toaster Burglaries Leave Police Baffled

Several things passed through my mind as I read the words.

One: News had to be incredibly slow. This should not have been something that made top news, yet here it was taking up the front page of our local newspaper.

Two: There was no point in even believing it as a joke on me personally. On the police or the town, perhaps, but on me, no.

My Dad shot my Mom a concerned look.

"Sweetheart, have you seen the toaster? It says here that there have been toaster thefts lately."

"It's been missing for several days now," I filled him in while adding some blueberries to my morning smoothie. Dad looked up at me.

"What? Why didn't you mention this?"

"I did, remember? You told me to look harder." In Dad's defense, it was one of those things that you don't exactly make note of.

"This is disturbing," Mom muttered, eyes scanning the counter in case I was mistaken. "Someone breaking into our house leaves me…" She trailed off and shivered. I knew what she meant. Invading our privacy made me feel completely unsafe.

"Moooooom," Ami called from somewhere. She had mastered the art of not getting up from her position on the couch, something she may have learned from me. I now held the title of a bad influence, though mildly.

"Someone has broken into our home? Stolen our toaster?" Dad was losing color from his face at the thought.

"Do we have anymore of those granola bars? I'm like starving," Ami had finally trekked into the kitchen, seeing as no one had answered her couch potato cry.

"The article says that four homes have been hit already. Should we report our own?" Dad's eyes frantically scanned the article for more.

"Anyway, I'm going to be over at Kukai's house for a group project at about twelve thirty. Just thought you should know," I headed back upstairs to my room.

"Kukai?" My Dad's voice came from behind me. "Isn't that a boys name?"

OooOooO

Well, I have to admit that I'm not very impressed with this chapter. It was written somewhat hurriedly, and I just recovered from being really sick (okay, those are excuses.) The letter writer came pretty out of character, as he was a bit too negative, but I'll try harder next time to make him more himself. Just bare with me for this chapter. Sorry if you like "The Scarlett Letter." I hope you weren't too deeply offended. Next chapter will involve a little Ikuto, so hopefully that will make you happier.