Dear Reader:
First thing you should know about me: I can’t be trusted.
Why? I lie.
I know it’s wrong, and I do it anyway. It’s survival instinct.
For this letter, though, I’ll do my best to tell you the truth (within reason and as long as I can preserve my safety). . .
My name is Seth Peters. I’ve lived in Cantos, Oregon my whole life, and I’m the only child of Jack and Kate Peters. I’m pretty good at school - I’m a junior; I’m really good at soccer which will probably be how I get to college (if I live that long); I’ve got a lot of friends and a lot of people who want to be my friend.
That’s all I got.
As I read what I’ve written back, I note its superficiality. It makes me sad because this is really all I show anyone. No one really wants to dive any deeper anyway because the deeper we go, the darker it gets. Any more and I might scare you away. My story isn’t a glossy narrative in which we hold hands after and sing campfire songs. No one wants the honest truth about what happens in the secret hearts of men. Lies are safer, easier, and allow us to turn our heads so we don’t have to face the ugly truth.
So, I guess the overall message I’m trying to tell you is to enter at your own risk.
Sincerely,
Seth
