Dear Grace |completed| ✔

Dear Grace,
It had been merely weeks. But by then, I saw you as way more than just a classmate. . You were the beautiful bird, I caged in pain every time my father came home drunk.You were the punching bag, we resorted to when we were angry. You were the destination of our foul words. You were the subject of our experimental pranks. The target of our frustration and often, the reason too. You still continue to be all that.

You had then become the cure to our madness. Because, that's exactly what we were. We are. We are mad. We are inhuman. We are sick. And this sickness is worldwide. You are like that drug. That takes away all the pain. You take away all the pain. Even though it means eternal pain for yourself. We squeeze you; jab you; swat you; kick you and throw you around like a sack of rice. And it helps ignore our pain.

But it leaves behind something else too. Something, way more dangerous. Guilt.

Which we promptly push to the back of our minds. Because, who cares? Who cares if you hurt? Better you than us, right?
//Un-posted letters written by a bully to his once-victim.//