I never knew I could hate someone I don’t even know. But I do. So much. I hate you with a passion. I didn’t think that I would feel so stressed out over that one night. All you did was steal my car, and crash it. I know it could’ve been WAY worse so I didn’t expect things to be this hard. I knew eventually I’d have to get a job, and even if you hadn’t taken my car I would probably still be looking for one right now. But the pressure? It’s KILLING me. If I don’t get a job NOW, I lose my car. I have to sell it. I have to sell my gift, that I was given because I deserved it. And it’s not even my fault. It’s yours. It was YOUR decision and YOUR mistake and yet I’m the one paying for it. And what are you doing? You faced NO consequence for what you did. You’re probably living your life with no worries like nothing happened. But that should be me. And I hate you for that. Instead I’m stressed every fucking day. I’m pressured into getting a job and I’ve applied so many places. I’m trying so fucking hard to pay to fix my car. I love my car and I’m lucky to have it. But you messed it up. If it wasn’t for you, I would’ve been able to afford Sadies this year, and Grad Night. I’d have a new radio in my car and I’d be enjoying my senior year. I’d be relaxed and stress free. I wouldn’t need to worry about money anymore and I wouldn’t have to franctically be searching for a job. I have all this anger towards you and anxiety. I don’t even know how I’m gonna pay for college. All because of that small choice you made. All because of a car. You are one of the most horrible people I’ve ever come across. You ruined my senior year. You ruined me.