Dear Miss Rennels

I knew Clare Kendry a long time ago. She was as beautiful as she was radiant. She could charm a killer into becoming a priest. There is a lot you don’t know about her. She wasn’t just passing… she was pushing. She was pushing to see how far she could go! You don’t get that, you couldn’t, but it’s true. She got an adrenaline from the life she lived and she needed that adrenaline to get her through the life she lived! But it doesn’t matter anymore. I killed her. She was what you say to a certain extent, though she was more. And that is why she needed to die. I pushed her out a window at a party. When it happened I thought everyone was watching me. But, no one saw. I’m so happy I did this. I read your piece in the New York Tribune a long time ago, and I’ve thought of you since. Clare was a sick person. I simply put her out of her misery.

 

Sign,

Anonymous

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