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Synapse Films #3: Sick Girl

Dear Sick Girl,

I’m not sure what made me fall in love you or why we came together, but I do know that I’ll never be the same because of you.  People say there’s no such thing as love at first sight but after seeing you, I’d have to say people don’t really know much about nothing. Was it your pretty face or family values that lured me into your heart? Or maybe it was in the way you’d clean blood off your body and clothes, knowing quite well that it was only a matter of time before it was blood soaked again.   Perhaps it was the relationship between you and your brother that made me realize what I wanted from us.  The way you’d defend him to your last breath, the way your face lit up when you spoke his name “Rusty”, the way you backed your ass into his crotch as he taught you how to round house kick an assailant.  You looked so happy together, so perfect, I could only wish that we could be the same way…

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My love for you is my cross to bear, for I know that we can never truly be together.  Your responsibilities in life are far too great.  Teaching children how to curb bullying by murdering the bullies your self was worthy of a purple star. Brilliant! I can see the posters in school hallways now “Kids Drowning Kids: Fight Bullying with Fire.”  I must admit, and I feel a tad embarrassed for saying this, but your knack for genital mutilation also raised some red flags.  I looked into it and most of the other girls I’ve dated never wanted to cut my penis off, attach it to a stick mounted to their crotch, and then anally rape a schoolgirl. Well most of them…

You remind me of part Hardy Candy, part Haute Tension, you little sugar cube you, and I love you for it.  Your piercing eyes stare deep into my soul and say “Wanna split a sundae?” but your blood soaked hands tell a different story… A story that I can’t be involved in, a story of rape, child murder, animal torture, incest and love loss.  It kills me to have to do this, to have to further crush your already broken heart, a heart that now due to so much torture and pain must look like a Gary Busey portrait made by Picasso.  We never could have been what you truly wanted.  I couldn’t be who you wanted me to be and you could never change what you are. I’m sorry…I love you…

– Detroit Burns

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