To whomever

A Story by Nicholas

Whoever finds my letters,

Family. The most basic form of relationships we learn about as kids. They can be both good and bad depending on families; though I feel that my personality isn’t the same as mine. I show these letters and his face shows his misunderstanding and disinterest. Why I prefer anonymity above recognition, why I prefer I write to neither a person nor a crowd. That just proves that he is neither the person nor crowd that I am writing to.

If I could, I would be the famous writer that tackles social stigma and government, favoring the pen rather than the sword. But to sign my name would be harder for me than bearing my soul through audible words and physical actions. Through my anonymity I gain power, power I wish to have with my family.

To be the blackest of sheep is an understatement. I share physical and mental traits with my father, but my increasing age continues to show a furthering from his gene pool. If he would see these letters he would share the same disinterest as my brother. I could care less that he shows any interest, for he will never truly know why I write what I write.

To my mother, I’m greyer than to my other family members. But, the same can still be said about her with regards to my writing as my brother and father.

Though I would go to war for my family, if I were to die in a firefight they would never truly know me as like others. I do wish that statement were false, it is the only true statement that I wish to be false.

Forever the Blackest of Sheep,

Anonymous Writer