Twenty Different People

0.2

Letter two | Amelia Cross

Dear Amelia,

I didn't personally know you that well, but I still wanted to write this letter to you. From what I've seen, you were the most popular girl student in our school. You were the captain of the cheerleaders and you also managed to score the captain of the football team—Vincent—as your lovely boyfriend.

But it's no wonder how you got him. You've got the most gorgeous caramel complexion, with brown hair that reaches to your shoulders and dazzling hazel eyes. And with looks like yours, it could kill. Literally.

I don't know what I've ever done to you to make you spew out such hatred on me. You called me nasty, ugly words that were laced with such dangerous venom. They seeped under my skin and crawled up my veins. And then, one day, you wanted to expose me. Shatter me. And yes, you did a great job of it. I congratulate you by writing this letter now.

Anyways, you "allegedly" caught me doing it down and dirty with a stranger and had taped the whole thing, sharing it amongst all your friends. Because there was no face ever identified or revealed, everyone seemed to think it was me, because you had told them so. The video was passed along, person after person, and even students from other schools had received it.

Did you know what happened after that video got released? Girls from our school called me whores, sluts, wrote them on the bathroom walls, mirrors, my locker and even boys grabbed my ass and slipped their numbers into my hands. I received twenty slips of paper that day and I burnt it all down into ashes.

I was utterly disgusted to my stomach, but you seemed to have a lot more going on with you. The news of you broken up with Vincent danced around like wildfire. He had supposedly cheated on you with mystery girl for months. 

I remember that it was the talk of every classroom discussion. They seemed to forget about me for a while, but I still couldn't concentrate. So, I excused myself to go to the bathroom, and I guess it was just a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

Vincent saw me walking down the empty hallway. I know you'll want to refuse to believe this, but he pinned me down and said I was gorgeous. But that's not what he really meant, because all he had in mind was my free services. 

He offered me to ditch school and return to his house. I declined many times. But then you came, and all hell broke loose. I was crying, tears streaming down my cheeks when you found me and him. You fiercely dragged me by my hair and chained me up, impelling me to go into the bathroom. There, you punched and slapped me, but you told me that the fun hadn't begun yet. 

You tried to drown me by shoving my face into the cold, musty water of the toilet bowl. You told me that this is what sluts deserve. I couldn't breathe. Water poured down my throat and filled up my lungs. It was horrible, but I wished you'd killed me in that moment of time. My hair was drenched and it clung to my neck tightly. Blood oozed out from the cut on my lip and my nose was slightly broken. 

You left your mess when the lunch bell rung. You could've heard me out, Amelia. You refused to let me speak as you jumped to conclusions. Why? And what had I ever done to you in the beginning? Was I just a punch bag for you to throw your anger out at? 

I don't forgive you and you can live your whole life knowing this. Finishing on that note, you are the second reason why I killed myself.