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Dear Nik,

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Dear Nik,

It's me, Isabelle Flores, the girl that you had met at the Mystic Grill.

You might not remember who I am, but that is okay. It was my fault for not giving you my name. You didn't give me anything back either to be able to find you, except for your name, Nik.

To be honest Nik, you have been consuming my thoughts. I do not know who you are, I do not know if you're a serial killer or if you're just a regular guy. That scares me, not knowing everything about you, but feeling such a connection to you. I want to write these to you, as a means to let out my emotions. The reason being, because when I spoke to you, it felt like someone actually cared about my problems.

From my entire life, I felt as though I was nothing. That my problems are meaningless, and no one would give attention to them. To be honest, I was being torn apart because no one would give me the time of day. I had felt that way until I had met you.

When you had walked in, everyone's gazes were on you. You commanded the room as though you were a king, and my attention was given to you. Out of everyone there, you chose to talk to me, and that had given me immense joy. For once, someone gave attention to me. That was you, and I am grateful for that.

Forever Yours,

Isabelle. 

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