Obviously, it’s me, Coffee. I’ve entered into a half-raised state in order to explain the details of my death, attain justice, and grant Liam that teddy bear that he so desperately desires.
Firstly, the matter of my death.
‘Twas a cloudy Washington afternoon when I recieved notice that I would soon reach my peril. The signs were adamant; my AP classes’ homework was increasing, debate team had announced that we’d be meeting twice a week, and my DECA conference and first novice debate tournament were approaching at inhuman speeds. This was the afternoon in which I received my death-note in the form of a letter stating that I’d landed a leading role in the school play. Thus, the beginning of the end began (although, I suppose if I had to die, this really was the best way to go).
But lo and behold! Justice still remains unseen! Who is to blame for the murder of poor, innocent Coffee?
Unfortunately, it seems to be Coffee herself who brought about this shameful demise! How will justice be achieved?
I vote we all dance upon Coffee’s AP homework-littered grave.
As for matters of the will, her only prized possession, a teddy bear, has been left to Sir Liam, the Head Phil.
Coffee shall be sorely missed. May her social life rest in peace.
(p.s. In the play, I am Phoebe, so whenever anyone calls out “Phoebe!” I think “Feebee!” and that makes me think of Mells. I love you Mells.)