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It's like a dear john letter...
reading
hyperion_giants wrote in it_is_written
Dear Author,

     Over the last few months I've been feeling more and more strained over things that have been happening here. It's not that I'm not grateful to the fact that you've created me or the small piece of universe for me to inhabit. It's just that it's difficult. I don't really know how to really say this. I mean we've had lots of fun and I've really appreciated the different plot devices and different things that have happened. How you gave me three different histories in the process of finding a place for me. I really appreciate all that you've done for me. When you let me get revenge on all those guys who wronged me. That was great, and when you gave me the ability to control fate and all that creepy stuff. That was fun. I didn't like the horrible nightmares that came along with it but it's fine. I didn't really like the times you made me get into fights with people. Or the horrible murders, but I tried to really enjoy it as much as you said I did. In fact I was really convinced that I was okay with pushing old ladies under cars and stabbing my neighbor's daughter. I had myself convinced it was okay to shoot my ex-boyfriend in the face. It was fine with me, as long as you said it was fine. And when you gave me the ability kill people with my mind I was okay with causing horrible car accidents when you were bored and writing short stories. I didn't mind that time you had me cause a bus to hit my boss while he crossed the street. It wasn't as bad as I thought it was. You clearly stated to me that I was a sociopath. And don't get me wrong, I'm okay with that. I mean it's fine that you want me to do these horrible things on a regular basis. I don't mind. I didn't mind when you made my history a terrifying horror story of abuse. I didn't even mind that you created me on a rainy day when you were bored and horny, I know that I'm just a mixture of your Ex-girlfriend and your sister. It's our secret and I don't intend to tell anybody. I really don't mind. Honest. I just think it's been sort of trying on my psyche to do these horrible things all the time. I didn't really want to be such a monster. I really didn't. I don't think that I want to keep being in these stories. I can't keep on doing these things you make me do. I don't like these random sex acts and bloody ritualized murders. I'm scared to even walk down the street in the fear that you'll make something bad happen to somebody who looks at me the wrong way.

I just don't want to keep doing this, I can't keep being responsible for the deaths of the people around me, even if you did just make them up. Even if you just made me up. I don't want to do this anymore, even now. I don't know if you're writing this or if I am. I don't want to keep doing this. I'm... I like being one of your characters. I like you too. I really do. I just... I just don't know if I want to keep doing this. I don't want anything to happen to those that I still know. I'm really sorry. Please just do me one favor. In the next story. I'm not going to be in it. Tell my mother to call the police.

I'm in the bathroom and the door is locked. Tell her I'm very sorry. Please let her know I'm very sorry, but this is the only way I know I'll be able to keep her safe. She's all I've got. I'm sorry to you too. I really did enjoy our time together. Please believe me, I just don't want to be a character anymore.

I hope I'm dead by the time you read this, I love you.

Alison.

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