A Broken Fairy Godmother

I believed.

I believed her. I believed what she said. I believed what she told me. I believed she had the gift. I simply believed.

I went to Mrs. Hope seeking adventure, not truth. But was amazed when she revealed things about me that only a best friend would know and other things that only someone that truly possessed the gift could know. I was a believer.

Then, she broke me heart and broke my trust and broke my dreams. She was a phony, just like the Easter Bunny and Santa Clause. She only existed in ambiguous ways now and I no longer believed.

When a classmate wrote an article about an attempted interview with Mrs. Hope all was revealed. The "psychic" revealed things about the classmate just as she had for me. The only difference was there was no difference. She had told us both the exact same scripted answers and I was disheartened by her scam.

I was amused by the way Mrs. Hope's closeted office held images of Christ and multiple colors of crystals. The massive bible on which a statue of Budha sat awed me. But, now that I know she isn't real these things disgust me. The way she removes Budha from the Bible to reveal cash from a multitude of customers neatly pressed between the pages infuriates me. She is using two contradicting religious symbols to house the scams of her innocent victims.

Mrs. Hope, if you are reading this (which since you have the "gift" you should already know what's been written without needing to read it) I advice you to quit your scam or get a new cash register.

Even a basket or stocking would work the same way the bunny and jolly man house our gifts. Pick something other than a bible.

For God's sake, use a plastic 8 ball as a bank. At least I would get some answers.