Dear Chucky,

As it turns out, I don't really think you're a 'dear', and the name I'd like to call you can't be written in a letter my children may happen upon, so 'Chucky' it is. As your small brain may not be able to process this, let me explain it's not 'Chucky' in a loveable, Nickelodeon character way, it's 'Chucky' in a psycho, horror film character way.

So now that that's all cleared up, I shall tell you first that our little family was tickled three shades of pink to buy your home. We searched high and low, from ghettos to gated communities, exposing ourselves to bio-hazards only a Realtor can imagine, to locate the right house, in the right neighborhood, in the right school district.

I did my research. And let it be said, I get an A+ in research. I stalked school buses to see how many 1st graders disembarked with mohawks and piercings. I shopped surrounding grocery stores to verify there weren't a disproportionate number of patrons missing teeth or covered in tattoos. I drove up and down every street in every neighborhood looking for youth with sagging pants, tennis shoes dangling from telephone wires and yards filled with tacky ceramic figurines, wishing wells and fake flowers. I exhausted every resource available to make the decision yours was the home we wanted to buy...every resource but one. Who would've thought research should be conducted on the seller of a property in foreclosure as well? Had methods been available, I may have learned sooner you are a sad little troll without a conscience.

We were elated when you accepted our offer. We thrilled at the bank's acceptance of the short sale. We were overjoyed when the appraisal and inspection were complete and acceptable. You'll never guess how we celebrated?! (Oh just guess...it's good!) We rented out our old home, put all our belongings in storage, found temporary housing, and enrolled our kids in your neighborhood schools. We were home free! Well, we would be once we replaced the carpets and cleaned the air ducts to rid your home of the foulest dog reek I've ever encountered. But still, it was as good as done - or rather, it should have been.

Because you're not currently responding to your agent, let me inform you, no one involved in this transaction has ever, EVER heard of a seller in foreclosure refusing to sign closing documents. Not the bank, not the title company, not the realtors, not the broker, not the lender, not the attorneys... NO ONE. That is because normal, decent people in foreclosure (in foreclosure for goodness sake!) sign the papers, collect their moving assistance and go on their merry way. Moreover, a normal, decent person wouldn't attempt to extort additional funds from the buyer in exchange for his cooperation either. But as I've established you're neither normal or decent, it would make sense you're not acting out of character. I guess you do have that going for you.

We are now left to clean up one more of your odoriferous messes. The expenses we incurred to prepare to purchase your home are nothing compared to the emotional expense my children will suffer having to change schools once again. They are the ones who will pay the highest price. I pray your lack of character will be an opportunity for them to build their own.

I also pray fervently that my heart will be filled with forgiveness. This has not happened as quickly as I'd hoped, but I am trying. Perhaps it would come quicker if I would quit imagining my fingers gripped tightly around your throat. I will have to work on that. Yes, I think I'll do that...tomorrow.

Sincerely,


Steffielu