Letterbomb by Lesley Whyte

At first, it was just the one letter. It's always just the one letter. I ignored it, like I always did. If I ignored it for long enough, it would go away. The money would turn up, I'd pay the bill, and then it would be gone. Sure, I might incur a little interest, but the money would turn up. The money always turned up. If there was one thing my parents taught me, it was that money would always turn up.

Then they started streaming in, hundreds of letters pouring into my flat like Hogwarts letters. Yes, I am ashamed to be able to make that reference. They piled up in the corners, covered in red ink and threats. And I kept on ignoring them. The money would turn up. It had to turn up. I stopped answering the door, and not just because I couldn't open it with all the envelopes stashed behind it. Then the calls started.

Eventually, it became clear to me that the money wasn't just going to turn up. That I would have to go out there and do something to get it. Money doesn't just come to you, you have to go out and work for it. My life would have been a lot easier if my parents had taught me that lesson instead, but then I wouldn't be able to blame them for everything in my life. So, long story short, I decided what I really needed was to make a small investment so that I could earn the money I needed to pay off everything else. So I set about buying a gun.