I keep seeing you around town and it’s weird. You look a lot like one of my teachers from high school. Everytime I see you, I get the urge to ask — just so I can know. But part of me is afraid you won’t remember me. Annnnd the other part is scared you WILL remember me. We didn’t exactly get along (sorry about that).
If you ARE my former teacher, there’s just one thing I want to know from you: WHERE IS MY LAMP?! Y’know, the one you confiscated. My mother bought me that lamp from Fashion Bug. It was shaped like a giant pink tulip. I’m not even sure why you took it; I know people don’t normally bring those to class, but it’s not like it was dangerous…
It’s not that I want the lamp back — I just want to know what HAPPENED to it. It’s been like, seven years since it was taken and I still wonder where it is. Perhaps next time I see you, I will ask, and maybe you will remember me. After all, I got an EIGHT PERCENT in your class and still graduated with a 4.0 GPA. There can’t be too many students who pulled that off, right?