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Feb. 6, 2017
Dear Mount Vesuvius,
After gaining the courage I needed from my remaining friends and family, I finally feel comfortable saying this. You BROKE MY HEART. Where do I even begin? I thought I had everything and you took it all away.
I used to worship you. My dad painted frescoes of you all over our house. Our house, which, by the way, you ENTOMBED. We used to think you were so cool. This big beautiful mountain that sometimes had pretty smoke coming out the top of it andbut was always there for us. And I thought you would be there for me yesterday, on the biggest day of my life: my sweet sixteen.
Yesterday I turned sixteen years old and had been planning my party for a YEAR. Everyone was gonna come: Caecilius, Metella, Grumio, Clemens… all the cool kids. This party had everything going for it: two musicians, a couple of wild dogs, and a well full of wine. I was wearing a brand new toga and if all went according to plan I was gonna sneak out with Julius after cake was served and go to the BATHHOUSE.
But halfway through the party I realized the bathhouse was no longer an option, because oh, I don’t know, you FILLED IT WITH LAVA. Did you even stop for a minute and consider, “Hey, maybe not every girl wants to share her birthday with a devastating volcanic event that will destroy her hometown and kill everyone she’s ever known and loved”? It was inconsiderate, really, and really not thoughtful at all.
At first I thought you were just helping to decorate. A couple of sparks were fun and the general smoky vibe made everything hot and exciting. Thank you, I guess, for that. But then all of a sudden you sent several rapid and dense pyroclastic flows right through all my favorite shops and some of my friends’ houses. That was, simply put, fucked up.
I ran out sort of far from my house to get a good picture of everyone having a good time, and right as I was putting the finishing touches on the painting you hurled several giant igneous rocks at the party and made the slate roof of my house fall in, killing or injuring all my friends. SICK and TWISTED. And those who didn’t die quickly choked to death on smoke and other toxic gases, which just wasn’t cute. Worst of all, I didn’t even get to open my presents. All my presents are now stuck in very very hot ash. How dare you??
In conclusion, I never want to see you again, and you CERTAINLY won’t be invited to my party next year.
