HE'S DEAD, THOUGH NOT FROM ANY BORING OLD DEATH.
•••
Welcome back, Slaters.
You read that right. The person that we {emphasis on that 'we'} all grew to know and love, is dead.
I don't ever put my personal opinions on here. . . but what else can I do when it hits so close to home?
Not just for me, of course, but for all of us. Students, Professors and parents alike.
I know, I know. . . We should all be grieving. No, we should all be rolling around on the ground like a piglet in mud, bawling our eyes out and asking a higher power, 'Oh God, why?' {Or whatever religion you practice. We all know this blog has always been VERY inclusive.}
But that's not why I'm here today.
Because in all honesty. . . I'm PROFUSELY grateful that he's dead.
It's what he deserved.
You might be wondering why I'm so thankful that a person is no longer here with us on the great land of the living. . . but maybe if you understood my story, you'd be thankful too.
So I'll make you understand.
No, I'll ensure you understand. . .
For months, you guys have been wondering who's behind this blog. . . and since I seemingly have nothing left to lose. . . I guess the time has arrived for me to come clean.
~virtually clears throat~ Ahem.
Allow me to reintroduce myself.
I am ~add later, my mind always goes blank in introductions whenever I have to do it off the top of my head~
Processed your shock yet? Yes? No? If 'no', too bad! Because we're moving on, time is of essence. Though it isn't much of a virtue to me anymore. . .
Anyway, yes. I have been the one behind all the blog posts of GreySlate.
I narrated all your stories and gossips as if I was always present. Truth is, I have eyes everywhere. Not only do walls talk, but people do. . . Yea, people do talk too.
And yes, I know that writing a 'tell all' comes with the risk of unfolding havoc and drama, and though that is the last thing I need, I REALLY need to do this. I need to tell my. . . no, our. . . I need to tell our story.
I've been quiet for far, far, too long.
And I've always reported on everything else. . . so why should I stop now?
Because it's like I said: he's dead, though not from a boring death. He died between~
No, wait. Before we get down to the juicy bits, I guess I should tell you where it all started.
Slaters. . . let's dive in, shall we?
[DRAFT. . . SAVED]
LAST EDITED: 6:57 PM, APRIL 17.
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RomanceStemming from an act of desperation, forbidden romance uproots a trail of secrets that wealth should have kept buried. . . [word count: 120000 - 125000]