As Julie sits down to eat breakfast with her parents, all she can think about is what her dreams envisioned; doom, gloom and punishment.
‘I reject it all,’ Julie thinks to herself as she shovels forkfuls of scrambled eggs into her mouth. ‘To hell if the dreams made it feel like I was there,’ Julie thinking; ‘I make my own fate; not some bizarre fop with a severe fashion disorder.’
“Julie,” Melissa speaking; “your father said you had some nightmares, care to talk about them?”
“No,” Julie quickly answers.
“Are you sure,” Melissa prodding; “it could be-“
“I said NO,” Julie shouting; “just let me eat in peace.”
Melissa looks at her daughter as she goes back to eating her breakfast; watching Julie eat her eggs and bacon as if she was a vacuum was disturbing to say the least. The fact that Julie was ignoring or outright shutting down any attempt at a conversation was another disturbing fact.
“Julie,” Melissa tries to speak but stops as her daughter puts her plate into the sink and heads back upstairs to her room. The sound of her door slamming shut makes it clear she doesn’t want to talk.
“Leave her be,” Martin speaking for a change; “Julie is under a lot of stress. Trying to get a conversation out of her would be akin to bailing out the titanic with nothing but a thimble.”
“Martin,” Melissa looking worried; “it may be the last time we ever get to talk to her.”
“Pushing her to speak when she doesn’t want to will not change things,” Martin answering; “And I doubt this trial will go quickly, we will have time to talk to her yet.”
As Martin and Melissa were talking; Julie was in her room writing a letter.
‘Mom, Dad;
By the time you find this letter, I’ll be gone. I already know what the outcome of my statue 1A trial will be. I know Brett will try and argue for attempted Statue 1A. None of her strategies will work. I will be declared unanimously guilty by every single council rep and sent to a cell, who the hell knows where and left to rot. I have no intention of letting that happen. You keep saying actions have consequences; I say to hell with the consequences. I make my own decisions, my own choices and I regret none of them; least of which what I write in this letter.
If I had a another chance; I would not hesitate to turn Eric Anderson into a wer-mer. But that ship has sailed. He is now a were-panther and clearly beyond my reach to strike at. Him and his tramp girlfriends Spencer and Frieda; tell them to watch their backs, one day I will have my due with them. Brian Walker will also feel my wrath. I still have not forgotten the humiliating way he broke up with me. No one breaks up with me. I break up with them!
And lastly you two. First you dad; as mayor, you could of used your influence to make all this go away. You could of crushed the Anderson’s, threaten the school’s funding or fire the sheriff for arresting me. But no, all you did was sit on your ass and bitch at me for wanting revenge. Revenge I have a right too!
And mom, that fetus growing in you; my future brother or sister. I hope you have a miscarriage; I hope it dies inside of you; because you are now dead to me. Both of you.
P.S the box this letter was sitting under; its phallic content was paid with your credit card dad, from the same sites I used to look at porn. It cost a shitload of money and gave me lots of pleasure. Let it be a reminder as to how I view you as. A giant tool.
With malice and hatred to you both
Julie’
Folding the letter and placing it under the box with her sex toy on her desk; Julie gets up to leave. Seeing Brett Smithson already here; Julie just walks past as she gets her coat and shoes and prepares to head to the elder’s council building.
“Are you going to talk Julie,” Melissa looking exasperated?
Julie just ignores her mother as she gets into the car; seeing her were-fox guards noticing her Julie flips them the middle finger, ensuring her parents and lawyer see the act.
“That was plain rude,” Martin looking unimpressed; “and you better answer your mother.”
“I am not interested in talking,” Julie growls; “nor am I interested in listening to what you have to say. And I could care less if flipping off some rent-a-cops is rude,” Julie being her flippant self; “it’s not as if it will get me into any more trouble then I’m already in.”
Martin stares at his daughter, the knuckles on his hands going white as he tightly grips the steering wheel; fighting the urge to strike Julie for being rude.
“Let’s just go Martin,” Melissa sighing; “let’s get this day over with.”
‘Yes Martin,’ Julie thinking to herself; ‘take me to the council building. It will be the last thing we ever do together.’