This is for you, Nikki. Nicole. Whatever the fuck you'd like to be called. In fact, I don't like you, so I guess I'll call you Nicole, because I know you detest that name. It's a lot better than the other names I have for you; one of them is bitchnugget.

Let me lay it down for you: man, don't I hate you.

I really do. I've never hated anyone else more strongly in my life than you.

Do you know why?

Well, because you tried to break up my best friend and I. And you nearly succeeded too. Your lies were made well, crafted from your mouth and split easily like blood, and poisonous to the very core. It infected both my friend and I, and without us knowing it, we hated one another and ourselves, believing that there was something wrong with the other. We would go to you for help, for some support, and you would tell us what we wanted to hear. What we needed to hear.

Bravo, on that part. Perhaps you're a bit smarter than I give you out to be. Not by much, of course.

Not only that, but you lied. This seems like a reoccurring theme: I hate liars. And you're the biggest one of them all.

You've lied about rape. You slept with a guy, or a couple girls, and regretted it later. Why not call rape and protect yourself? Who cares about who it might affect in the end?

You've cheated on everyone you've ever dated. I've watched you. I wish I had said something sooner, but I thought it wasn't my place.

You loved the attention to be on yourself. If someone was suffering from a medical condition, you'd start to mimic the symptoms to gain some sympathy. Heaven forbid someone who actually needed the fucking help get it- no.. Nicole had to get all the attention, because Nicole is just so fucking ill, she needs help right away. Right away, I say.

I wish I could punch you in the face. Really.

I wish that I had never met you.

I wish, so desperately, that I had never talked to you in the first place so that you had time to weave your way into my life, into my friend's lives, or anyone else.

I hope you read this someday and get offended.


And I hope you cry when you read this, not with the realization of how much of a shit person you are, because you're not smart enough for that, but because these words hurt you.

You're just another shit-stain in the world of shit-stains. Another turd in the toilet bowl. Basically, you're going to be the person working at McDonalds and barely pulling your debt on society. Not that working at McDonalds is a bad thing, in fact, I pity everyone who has to share the same space with your smelly ass. I hope that you don't have kids, because they'll end up just like you.

Pathetic. They'll end up those kids that always smelled like rotten eggs and screamed in the halls, sleeping with every person they could just because they were easy, and making everyone else miserable with your lies and deceit.

So, Nicole, I guess I'm done here.

I'm sorry you turned out so shitty. I'm sorry that you're still stuck in a 13 year-old mindset, for whatever reason. I'm sorry you'll never actually grow up, and you'll go through life thinking that everything will be fixed just because you want it to.

I might be sorry, but I don't pity you.

In fact, I'll watch as Karma bites your ass.

It's bitten mine, for what I've done. And I've accepted that, alright? I'm not perfect, I've done wrong things too, but I know now. I'm a terrible person, but at least I won't be hurting anyone anymore.

You'll get what's coming to you.

They always do.