Work Text:
“Dear Dead Dad;
I know for a fact this letter will never find you well, because you are, well, dead; but that's only more reason for me to write this, you can't let my thoughts slide, and this is more of an excuse for me to put stuff out.
Days are not getting better, my team lost yet again, I got really disappointed, but it was no fault of our own… sort of. Jack was the one that stole victory from us, I don't know why he did that, or how, that loophole he found was so stupid, why does that even exist? This game keeps getting more and more unfair. We had to let Starfruit go this time, I didn't feel anything from that loss however.
I got so mad when Jack did that, I wanted to rip his stupid smile out of his face, I wanted to beat him up even more, but I felt bad, that isn't something I should want just because I lost, it's petty and would only make people think lesser of me. But I still wanted to, does that make me a bad person?
I also got to make a new friend today, I think, it was Paper, remember him? The guy that kept antagonizing me last challenge? Yeah, that guy. It was nice, having someone I could talk to, not that MeTag is a bad listener, oh no, they're still my best friend, I love them more than anything on this world, but was nice having another friend.
I can't help but think it isn't genuine however… Why did he turn around so quickly? He hated me and now he wants to be my friend? Why? Did he feel guilty? Did he regret what he did? Or was it simply pity? How much of his apology and his friendship with me is true? I forgave him because I didn't want to be alone anymore, and maybe he deserved a second chance, but I can't help but still be angry. Is it normal to feel so conflicted?
Even if Paper started acting nicer, that's not the case for everyone else; they still ignore me, they look at me weird when I pass by, when I tried fixing a broken machine they had, Paintbrush shoved me away and told me to stand back, like I was doing something forbidden. I don't get it, they never say what I'm doing wrong, they don't tell me how I can improve, they just look at me like I'm impossible to fix, do I need fixing?
Dear Dad, I'm going to ask you to forgive me, but I can't help but blame you. The reason everyone gives me those looks, the reason everyone excludes and ignores me is you, you're at fault. When they look at me they don't see ‘Poppy’, they see you, a mini version of you, a ticking bomb ready to explode and follow your steps, what steps did you take? I don't even know, they never teached me who you were, they just keep saying ‘He was evil, he was terrible’ like a broken record.
This isn't fair, how am I supposed to act differently when I don't even know who you were, I never got to see how you look, how your husks felt like, I never got to see the colors of your eyes, to see how you walked and talked, I never got to learn your favorite food and hobbies, we never got to see each other eye to eye; am I supposed to guess? To follow what the others say blindly? Why is it such a crime to look like you? And act slightly like you? That doesn't mean I am you, I'm me, my own person, why can't they see that? I didn't choose to be born like this.
I hate you dad, I hate you because you won't leave me alone even in death, I hate you because you haunt my days, you strip me away of being my own person over stuff I can't control, I hate you because you're making pay for crimes that weren't mine, errors that I didn't commit; I hate you dad, but I don't want you to hate me, because if we ever got to meet I would want you to take care of me, and protect me, I can't help but wonder what kind of family we could've been, if we would get along, if we could be happy. I hate you, but I don't want you to hate me, and I'm sorry for being so complicated.
I should probably stop writing before I waste more pages with my rambles, I'm probably going to bury this one with the others, or burn it, so I should try to be resourceful. Thank you for listening Dead Dad.
– Signed; Poppy."