People in life come and go like the wind. There is a constant fluctuation of friends and enemies, you never know who is going to be who. Sometimes, your friends can be undercover enemies. They get the best of you, and take advantage of just that. There is no understanding these people, there is just accepting that this is them.

Most of the time, "fake" friends take place in high school. There are these people who pretend they like you just to try to destroy you, or try to get others to dislike you too. It does not get better after high school. Those "fake" people do not grow out of that crazy phase of theirs. It happens to not be a phase at all, it is who they are. These people will look yellow on the outside, but be all black on the inside. There is no light in them. They will look at you and pretend that they want to the best for you and could never talk about you behind your back; let alone tell a soul your secrets. Yet, they do not want the best for you; they want the worst. They can and will talk about you, and try to tell others your secrets. They are devils that look like angels, and the worst part of this is; they look like your friend.

I had a "friend" like that. This is my letter to her.

You seemed so sweet. You put up a front like you were so sweet. I remember you telling me about all of the "bad guys" in your life, because you did no wrong. I now know why all of the "bad guys" in your stories pushed themselves away from you. You are a leech. You stick to someone and suck all of the personality and life out of them for yourself. You adapt and form to whoever you're around, but in what way does that make you who you are? How can one be themselves, if they never figure that out? All of the fun and all of the "you're my best friend, I love you" comments; how many times did you talk behind my back while you had me thinking I could trust you? The truth of the matter is that you were never my friend. You looked like my friend, but only someone so cruel could make up lies and spill your secrets to those around them. You tried making me look bad, but it only hurt you in the process. Your image is forever altered in my mind, and those who know the truth know how cruel you truly can be. I would hope that you one day feel the pain I felt when I walked to that door and heard you smearing my name with dirt. Although, I don't. I hope the best for you, it will just not involve me. I am now one of the "bad guys" in your stories. I hope you tell the story well; yet we all know it won't be the truth. You seem to not be able to get that part right.

With love,

One of Many You Deceived.