Letter (Direct)bySexi Kitten Lexi©
I greatly pity that my first meaningful letter to a person of the opposite gender is not one of love or secret lust, but one of regrettable anguish and bordering on that vile emotion of hate. Since I was suddenly, brutally, and rudely hung up on, I will have to result to the only form of communication you will not respond to (Ah, what a blessing the silent, written word is, with no messy emotions to disturb us). Since I do wish very much for you to read this confession of sorts, I am placing it in a sealed envelope. It will unfortunately and quite dramatically be the written reminder and proof of the soiled remains of a delicate soul that was shattered at approximately 7:44 P.M. on Wednesday, April 02, 2003. The soul of a pitifully, much too naïve girl, who always saw the best in her kind and in her world, even though she suffered secretly, longing for love, for compassion, and one true friend. I was, dare I say it? I was a veritable fool and pawn, manipulated by a seemingly kind and charitable, older, almost father-like figure with a girl of my own tender age, and a babe blessed with eyes of blue, and some most curious stubble on his chin (Obviously, in your words, obsessions are, indeed, dangerous, and well, obsessive… very unattractive).
I do not know why I am even writing, but I feel obliged to explain, being a typical girl who needs typical closure (Dr. Freud would be proud). Remember when I said I acted as though I were strong but was truly very fragile and sensitive? Well, I found that to be true tonight. I honestly did erase all the numbers (being a reformed liar, you know), but your number was in my cellular phone's memory. I curse the day I trusted your lies and curse my moment of weakness and fear. Even after spitting out apologies and desperately blurting out, "Doctor, it's an EMERGENCY!"…Receiver clicks…dial tone…I now am sure and confident of the true nature of humans. Fanciful images of heroes and chivalrous knights are nothing but lifeless corpses to me now, sucked dry by the green-eyed monster that is you, faithful companion (It almost reminds me of The Phantom, does it not?).
Your calculating moves and deceiving attempts of purely platonic friendship and comfort in this obscene world of ours foolishly tempted me. I at least believe you to be, correctly or not, little more than a Neanderthal, (even primordial slugs are capable of emotion or, at least, feeling, unlike some of their human offspring); I do, however, still instill my faith, or belief, whichever you fancy, in your honor as a husband, and infinitely more prestigious, as a father. I will trust you, against every negative shouting and agonizing fiber in my body, to share this with no one, unless you would like to share it with your newborn's godfather, who, may I remind you, you once professed to be your only true friend (Watch out for bad influences, we would not want the boy to grow up on "the wrong side of the tracks" now would we?), and preferably take this to your cold, dank grave.
This is neither an angry threat nor fiery, vengeful blackmail, (I have never been much for revenge- a very animalistic action, much to crude for my liking- I would most certainly prefer the thrill of the hunt and the carefully woven lies of mystery. "What a tangled web we weave", my dear acquaintance). I am merely kidding, or as your quaint, little, "playhouse" would say, merely acting (I would have been the best actress you ever knew, and have been, in situations that will never be revealed to you, I sincerely hope you bleed and die out of curiosity, like that wretched, filthy cat, or better yet, like the vile temptress, the harlot, Pandora. You, my good doctor, will be the end of idealism and love. You, kind Sir, will be the apocalypse that kills our faith or belief, whichever you most prefer.
On a more personal, and slightly wistful note, (I, as you should know by now, pride myself on my disciplined lack of emotion, because life is really just a cruel test of fate and chance, like the friendly wager between God and the Devil- capital "D" if you do not mind- the Devil has powers as well, and carefully hidden ones at that, or even on a more common level: my seduction and temptation of a thirty-year-old man, as he begs me, groaning like a beast in bittersweet orgasm, as he jerks himself ironically into the phone, moaning, almost weeping for pity, to release him from my seduction… that is why I believe we were star-crossed, dear, shall I risk it? Dear mental, intellectual, sexual, beautiful, powerful, Lover? Both being quite powerful and sultry in our own gender-respective ways, did clash quite tenderly, if I do say so myself. (I did enjoy your winks and threats of overcoming me in rape, as I struggle and almost sexily purr, like a female sex kitten, into you ear as you pump…pump…pump…harder…and faster…oh yes… it hurts…oh dear, I seem to be bleeding…keep going… oh Doctor, I am most certain I am cumming! I moan ever-so-slightly as the sin envelops me, as you viciously, and savagely, violate my now suddenly, swiftly, non-virgin, tight-as-sin, pussy, belonging to a slightly insecure, cock-hungry, basking-in the afterglow of the forbidden, but clinging to the sweetness of my fruitful, ripe, red cherry of naiveté, raven-haired maiden, the last and only of my dying kind… (Feels delightfully decadent does it not, my lover? We can now be true lovers, mind, body, and spirit…we are one…
But please do not flatter yourself sweet one. Do not confuse the blood rushing to your nether organ of impalement with innocent, sweet, tender, love. This is only mundane sex. The higher order, the different plane, the Power and the Glory - if you have not guessed it- belongs, ultimately to me, you only one-orgasm-per-hour-proven-by the-natural-law fool.
Once again, it is my sincerest wish that you did not take this the wrong way. I have neither the intention nor the desire to destroy a happy home or family or the prestige of a hard-earned career in a certain twice-accredited blue ribbon school. I most certainly, and you can bet your disgusting life on it -which is nothing compared to a half the life of a certain Physics teacher's with a slight Filipino accent- or for that matter, even half the life of the young lady I am or woman I will soon become. (Can anybody say "Fordham Merit Scholarship"? I am looking forward to those extra credit hours, professor. If you are good, I might bring along a certain pretty little thing, which has an unhealthy affection for that sickening bulge in your pants. Question: Do teachers ever jerk off, or cum, when a girl rips her navy school tights and proceeds to expose her pretty pink panties, which cover her pretty pink sweetness, as her teacher conspicuously hurries to the nearest bathroom? I did enjoy that uncertainty as I licked my recently strawberry-glossed, kissable lips. Did I ever tell you about that orthodontist sexual abuse incident? Oh well, you will just have to rot burst of curiosity, or find out for yourself. But "Men of God" are much too upright for that sort of thing, are they not?).
What makes me laugh is the twisted irony of this whole touchy situation. I almost begged for your absolution (At least a real father would have introduced me to the joys of womanhood). I came to you when I needed support and urgent help and guidance, and you, like all the other miserable demons I trusted, interpreted it as an invasion of your personal space. I could honestly care less about your ridiculous personal life- except for your nana, whom you force to live in agony, inflicted with common arthritis, as she reluctantly stuffs her Social Security check into your pants, for an old, mid-life-crisis-afflicted man to pay his wasted education loans. (Ha and Ha, I sneer at you, unclean wretch of a man).
Once again, let me reiterate, I am most certainly not, and never was or will be, bitter. You are the first to capture my interest, and even lust, for quite a long time. As with all my Internet and fantasy lovers (remember: I am known as the goddess of inexperienced wisdom, with the slightly crooked halo, girly, devilish grin, and suspicious red bump on my forehead), you will surely hold a special and tender place in the black and tender vortex that is my young and pure heart.
So now, I will end with the typical female story of suffering and loneliness: What was the nature of the emergency you ask? Well, dear listener, let me explain: For you enlightenment, today was, without comparison, the absolute worst and most terrifying day of my life. I was to visit my therapist and psychiatrist as scheduled for an hour's visit. The initial counseling was fabulous, and I truly confident that I made a new friend. (So the cycle will never really die…if it is just cut in half…that is the key…the power). I calmly entered the Doctor's room and was seated. I excitedly informed him of my acceptance into Fordham and respective scholarship, since he truly thought I was a liar who deserved to be in remedial. I then told him that there was bad news. I also made a ludicrous comment, in passing, about there being no logic to having a scale in his personal office because it was very intimidating to simple, sweet, chubby girls, like me.
The Psychiatrist was then offended by my very respectful criticism of his medical opinion, since I refused to be taken advantage of again. I thank Mrs. DeAngelis, the woman who inspired me to be strong and start the "NO DACD" organization for the young.
Oh, and the counselor, which I initially distrusted, but soon bared my soul to, and stood naked and trembling before, told a certain religious principal that I had had a 'bad day' because I left a class for ten minutes and was found in the lab after checking my mail and speaking to some teachers. I was also informed that certain teaches spoke about my "behavior" today, resulting in the cornering of my mother in her car. The concerned lady summarized that she was unsure of how to "handle me" and was shocked by my certain "erratic behavior". I have been told by the counselor herself, that I was "on the right track" after a series of disputes over my credibly and motives. The "young lady" believed I gave teachers gifts in March, which had been in my locker since the nearest celebration of the Birth of Our Lord Jesus. She insinuated that the gifts were bribery or meant as sexual innuendos, and when trapped, stated that no everyone could "be like me" and that she felt like I asked her to "jump " when I called. I was so deeply insulted that I ended our conversation tactfully and tacitly ended our friendship and relationship for all eternity.
After I "insulted" the Psychiatrist, my therapist was called in. Before she entered, the Doctor informed me that I was seriously, and "aggressively manic" and needed to be "hospitalized immediately". Knowing the true meaning of that phrase, I found my voice and screamed barbarically, at the top of my lungs, shrieking: "NO! I Will Never be taken to that Place Again, I Will Never be Abused Again! Where is My Mother? I Want Her Now!" I was dragged into another room, as another woman tried to calm my heaving and bawling, who's haunting echoes could be heard two doors down. The "wonderful" Doctor decides that seeing me is the best idea and proceeds to repeat in mumbled Indian: "She is truly manic, she must be hospitalized, there is no other way!" His soothing way with children made me shriek in terror once again, as I clung to my mother's blazer, pawing at her scarf like a disciplined dog. I was then told that my "medication" would help me achieve balance, whose lack might be caused by inherited bipolarity. Said with all the tact of telling a recent war survivor that he is to die most certainly of incurable cancer, I roared once again, this time with the powerful wail of all the damned and anguished souls tormented in Hell, both real and on Earth.
Once I calmed down and left, I clutched the book my therapist had given me: The Maiden King… a Russian folktale… "Curious-er and Curious-er!" I thought to myself as I tried to hold back those last few whimpers, though my burning red eyes betrayed me. I had asked her, after sharing and laughing for roughly an hour, to pick a book that most resembled me. Of all the shelves, she fumbled toward the bottom and shoved frames of her young son to the side, and out emerged my autobiography… "How fitting" I sneered dryly… one can certainly not escape their fate…
My case-in-point, (which I grant permission to be used as a sample essay - for one of your University classes perhaps-). I did trust you and loved you dearly, like my own flesh. But, one can never forget a cold-blooded betrayal… One can never forget the flux of emotions that courses though your pulsating vessels: Trust, Betrayal, Disappointment, Hate, Loneliness, Sadness, Pity, Fear, Horror, and ultimately, the incurable pain of a fatal, infected wound. I hold no hard feelings toward your person, but I, in turn, hold no regard for you. Thank you for enduring this slight torture and these endless italicized words- as I mentioned- everything means something more- maybe the words lead to a secret symbolism… and I am gifted with a photographic memory, Aptitude for the Arts and Sciences, Advanced communication skills, and the power of reading people's souls though their eyes… Come to think of it, the good Psychiatrist had very piercing eyes… as though he were trying to steal my soul…but I held strong… and persevered… Never trust a person with unnatural eyes… for through my meddles I have found, it is truly the devil in disguise- "Ha! Take that: Not good enough for Literary Journal!" Ahem…and that is… dear readers the end to this mere chapter of the unending story of my life… Enjoy… Until we meet again… "When the Two Worlds Meet"…
Warmest and Sincerest Regards to Those Most Dear to You, Please Remember Me Kindly
(Again, just a kind closure, most definitely not a threat- having written that in clear and plain English, I can not be held accountable for your actions, let the proof stand and protect my innocence and clean mind, of guilt and unjust punishment. If for some reason this proof does not stand, let it be known that the minor has been diagnosed with depression and has a history of catatonic behavior and aggressive mania, otherwise to be known as by polarity since September of 2003. The aggressor eventually returns to his roots of self-preservation and ultimate cowardice- "'Tis to be Human" is what I learned from you, oh wise and humble Doctor of Philosophy. Teach the fresh-faced Freshmen well, Sir, as well as you have taught me, I trust you will successfully continue that vicious cycle of despair, and especially the weakness of the human condition due to original sin- The Dark One would be proud of your deeds, Sir- "Oh, I have had so many children, so many names, and all have failed me…except the one).
Yours Always in Distrust,
(You were the first and only demon to succeed in his temptation- I could have been inhabited by the Forgiving Jesus Christ Himself for all you know- that would have been quite a ditty!)
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