I Share Beautiful Things With Beautiful People

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Dear Mr. White,


I have been wrongly accused.


Please help me.


The only crime I am guilty of is sharing beautiful things with beautiful people.

They are counting on you.


Contrary to what most people will try to convince you, being a lawyer is by no means a difficult job. That being said, most people aren't particularly good at it.

After what happened, I can consider myself among them.

I struggled to read the words on the screen through tired, hazy eyes. I had just woken up, having fallen asleep at my desk once again.

As I began to focus I became confused. The email had no subject, and the address was simply "beautiful@therightthing.org". I rubbed my eyes. It was far too early for this.I glanced at the time on my computer screen.

1:02 AM

That would explain why my office was so dark.


I peered into the black void, temporarily blinded by the nearly pure white screen.

I stood up from my chair and walked to the door. Perhaps I would have time to get some more sleep before my case at 9:00.


Still unable to make out my surroundings, I felt for the handle and twisted the knob, but it wouldn't turn.


Damn. I suppose a janitor had locked it, not knowing I was there?

I let out a sigh as I turned around. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I noticed the state my office was in. Papers were strewn about, and a cabinet lay on its side. That was odd. I can't stand to have things out of place.

As an attempt to calm myself I started to clean up. Most of the pages were nothing important. Rough drafts, emails, some were simply blank. I picked up a piece of paper that had a heart drawn on it. Beneath it was a small picture. One that looked professionally developed. I slowly turned it over, my mind racing as to why this was in my office.






This was the face that stared back at me.

I dropped it, stumbling backwards in some desperate attempt to escape. I retreated to the corner of my office, gasping for air. I don't know how long it was until I gained the courage to take a second look, but I slowly walked back to where the picture lay, eternally grinning.

I let out a sigh of relief when I saw that it was photoshopped.

I was still uneasy. I had never seen this picture before. Had someone had broken in and placed it there while I slept? what if they had locked me in?

Oh god. My hypothesizing was brought to an abrupt stop as I realized,

My door doesn't have a lock.

Hardly knowing what I was doing, I rushed to the door, trying to push it open with all my might.

The knob wouldn't turn.

I collapsed, and noticed from the ground that the email had changed. I don't know if it was desperation or hope that caused me to crawl to my desk. I stood and saw what was written.

Dear Mr. White,

Isn't she beautiful? I have many more children.

We all live together in one big house.

Now all of the beautiful people you know can live with us too.

I share beautiful things with beautiful people.


I slowly realized the email was from me, addressed to all of my contacts.

It was written on my computer

Over my shoulder I heard the sound of teeth grinding against each other.



But now I'm beautiful.

And soon you will be too.



Credited to Iliketosmile


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