Smile, You're on Camera

//0:11//

"I'm forgetting someone. Someone very important to this depressing saga that has become my life.

Spencer Isabella Taylor, you and I have some unfinished business.

You, fortunately, weren't one of Charlie West's goons. No, you were something much worse.

You were just you. You know, Spencer, of all people I thought that you could understand me.

I thought that you would be the one to truly stick around, but I guess I should've learned from Kollin that true friends are only myths.

Spencer, you'd come to school with a new injury every day.

A black eye, here.

A broken leg, there.

Spencer-honey, your dad beat the living hell out of you every time you went home. Right?

Your dad is just like mine. Hey! Maybe they should bounce ideas off each other!

Ooh, and they could write a book!

101 Ways To Abuse Your Kid.

No, no, I'm just being stupid. Spencer, my problems with you blossomed out of our common problem...

Our fathers...

Now, my father is a very sick, twisted man. He apparently likes girls my age so when I bought you over to my house, Spencer, my dad took a shine to you.

He stared at your butt as we walked up the stairs and while I shot him the bird, you wiggled your butt.

At first, I thought you were just taunting him. Just exerting your power over him, something I could never quite do in my own life.

But a week later when I came home from school, your car was in my driveway.

I figured you were there to see me and you were there,

in my room

under my covers.

my dad thrusting himself into you.

Spencer, Spencer, Spencer, do you know how sick of a motherfucker you are?

Do you even know what a friend is?

This man hurt me. Physically and mentally and you screwed him?

You and dad didn't see me when I walked in the room.

So I went downstairs, grabbed one of dad's favorite vodka bottles and watched it shatter as I threw it at the wall over the bed.

Oh Spencer, the look on your face was priceless. To this day I'm not sure if it was surprise from the shattering bottle or if it was because my dad was releasing himself inside you.

While you helped my dad pick glass out of his head, I went to my closet and threw my clothes and shoes into a suitcase.

Then I went downstairs, grabbed dad's keys to his fancy red sports car and his black limitless credit card and left.

I went to a high end hotel and gave them daddy-dearest's card and it passed with no problem.

And I slept like an angel. It was the first time in years that I'd slept without a single nightmare.

I'm sure I would've gotten over the little incident eventually but six-months later you were sporting a baby bump.

How's my little brother, Spence? He should be like, what, a year and a half years old now?

How's motherhood treating you?

Just fine, I hope.

My dad still giving you those big fat checks?

Is that why you slept with him?

Because you wanted money?

Or did you really want a little bundle of joy?

Whatever, Spence-honey, I hope that you and your kid have a nice life together.

But next time you choose to screw a man two times your age, make sure that he doesn't have a crazy bitch for a daughter.

Later Spence."