Dear Daughter, Please don't ever forget this. You're lazy. You'll never amount to anything. You're a prostitute, a whore, a filthy harlot, a good for nothing tramp and trollop. You deserve to be hit. I beat you because you asked for it. Stop crying! I'll give you something to cry about. I don't love you. You're useless. You're fat. You got bigger again. You're nothing. Did I mention you're a whore? You were born of demons. SHUT UP! I'm sorry, but this is going to hurt me more than it's going to hurt you. All right, I suppose you shouldn't go to school with that swollen lip. Your mother doesn't love you; I'm the only one who loves you. Listen to me, I hate your mother, too, but I can't stand up to her- she's crazy. Did you not hear me, stupid?? I HURT YOU BECAUSE YOU ASKED FOR IT.
Love, Trust me, I haven't forgotten a word. I've collected here a small sample of all the hurtful things you've said to me over the course of eighteen years. It doesn't look good put together this way, does it? What do you have to say about that? Is it my fault, again?
Respectfully, |
