Sincerely, The Stranger You Call Sister

Childhood Arc: The Holy Word Of God

Dear Little Brother,

I fucking love irony.

I really, really do. Except for dramatic irony, though -dramatic irony can go burn in the deepest depths of Hell, like the shite piece it is.

Because dramatic irony, the situation where readers or audience know something that the characters don't, is basically every horror movie in a nutshell. Dramatic irony makes me want to rip my hair out in frustration and causes my throat to go hoarse because all of the characters are so goddamn stupid.

I mean, I specifically tell them not to split up, not walk in that room, don't answer the phone, that this is exactly not the time to get hot and bothered when there's a murderer in the house, and for fucks sake, DON'T RUN UP THE STAIRS IF YOU CAN RUN OUT!

Do they listen to me, though? Nooooooo!

And then they have the fucking nerve to act surprised when shite hits the fan and they get murdered! Fuckers would have survived if they followed my goddamn advice.

Other kinds of irony, however? Like verbal (AKA sarcasm)? Heavensent.

I remember my old friend Clarissa; she loved writing stories. Was really good at it, too, but absolutely sucked at naming her characters. So she used to hit me up and I would ask a bunch of question about the characters before googling a name that sent me crackling.

One time Clarissa tried practicing her Tragic skills, and so created a young teenage girl that was born and raised in people/sex trafficking. The girl ends up killing everyone via fire, and is then shipped straight to prison and put on death's row.

I named her Alyson. For "freedom."

There was another time where Clarissa wrote a Naruto fanfiction and wanted me to name an amnesiac OC.

I was grinning like a fucking loon when I sent back the name Kagome, which means "lost."

Point is, I adore irony. Almost as much as I enjoy puns. However, I've discovered I don't much like irony when it's used against me. Maybe it's some kind of karmic bullshite that Merope named me "Dorothy." Or maybe she had absolutely no creativity and picked my name because it's popular during this time. I don't know.

That all being said...While you might dislike your name because it's common and boring, at least it doesn't make you want to burst out laughing and curl up into a ball of depression, while at the same time giving you the irresistible urge to kick God Himself where the sun don't shine...Before congratulating Him on the cleverness of it all.

Sincerely,

The Stranger You Call Sister.

~xXx~

January 26th, 1937.

"This is stupid," Tom says flatly. "Why are we doing this again?"

"Why, Tommy, I thought you loved our magical abilities." I widen my eyes in mock surprise, crouched down by a couple of budding flowers on the ground.

"You know I do, but I don't see how making flowers bloom is useful," he glances down at the plants in distaste and crosses his arms.

I snort. "You're just cross because you suck at this."

"You haven't succeeded yet either," Tom counters mulishly, only proving my point.

"But I'm closer to victory than you are," I retort smugly while gesturing my green/purple Plus flower which is only a couple of steps away from blooming, compared to his own plant which is but a wee sprout.