Alpha to Omega

I'm a rabbit in you headlights.

Dear World,

Can you ever forgive me? Does it ever begin to mean anything when I say I’m sorry?

I can perhaps begin to help you understand if I explain the events that lead up to my disappearance. Maybe if you know the state of mind I was in, you will be more willing to forgive me.

When John makes love to me, I stare at the ceiling tiles. I know precisely how many there are on the bedroom ceiling, but I won’t tell you, because I think that’s a little too personal. A few weeks ago, I had a dream. In this dream I was in the oval office, wearing a blue dress, and President Bush was there and we were being dirty. He was doing things to me that I hadn’t even dreamed about until this point—things that John would never do. He was talking dirty to me as well, he kept saying “Timber….I got me a whole lot of TIMBER!!” and he was very excited. When I woke up I was aroused, I felt filled with shame and so I prayed to Jesus. Jesus was very forgiving, but he suggested that I might have some issues with my sexual relationship with John.

I was confused, I didn’t know what to do, and I misunderstood what Jesus was trying to tell me. So, I went out one night while John was at Bible study and tried to get kidnapped. I thought that maybe if I got kidnapped, the kidnapper would do dirty things to me and I wouldn’t have cheated on John but I would have fulfilled my desires. But, no one would kidnap me. I stood on a corner downtown where a lot of scantily dressed women kept telling me to “get off their corner, bitch” and a lot of men would leer at me from their cars, but they only gave me funny looks and kept on driving. Folandia, one of the ladies on the corner, told me that I was too ugly to get picked up by any of the men and, in her words I “smelled like God”. Well, I didn’t know that the Good Lord had a smell, so I guess Folandia was wrong.

I went home very upset. No one would kidnap me. I wasn’t desirable enough. How could I marry John when he clearly didn’t want me and was only with me because he’s an uptight Christian freak? There was only one solution—I’d show them I was desirable—I would have to kidnap myself.

So that’s what happened, world. I concocted a bold faced lie and ran away from home because I had a sex dream about George Bush. Just saying his name makes me tingle all over—with shame. I am a horrible person and I deserve what’s coming to me. Please punish me, in the eyes of God and the State and the President. Please, please spank me.

*Any factual errors contained in this letter are the result of the complete disinterest of the author. All unfounded and unjustified assumptions are the result of Jenny Wilbanks being both an inconsequential person and news story. All aforementioned assumptions were made by looking at the picture on the right, and not by reading or watching any coverage of the actual case.