Dear Aaron Persky

To Aaron Persky, the judge who failed to give Brock Turner a just sentence.

The knowledge of your existence is an eternal burden that one can only beg to be rid of; you are the dead weight that would be left behind on the Day of Judgement. Even the most devout worshipers would admit that God made a grave mistake in your creation. The only joy that comes from seeing you is remembering that one day karma will scorch your soul, only showing mercy when it knows that the act of taking your pain will make giving it back all the more delectable. Vindictive eyes will watch as you singe, and the pleasure of your deterioration will only heighten their thirst for justice, and as you fall to the floor from the pedestal that you sit so highly on, all the people you did wrong will be running for popcorn rather than to save you, and the only person that would be seen crying would be the man you face in the mirror. The very ground you walk on shrieks in disgust at the thought of you touching its face because even the dirt that is stomped upon proves to be more congenial than the likes of you.

It has been acknowledged that the cruelty of this letter may seem unjust to you, but the act of writing this is merely an imitation of your sentence. Though you claim to have an honorable background, your unjustifiable decision of only giving the repulsive Brock Turner six months to serve for the atrocious crimes he committed shows more about you than it does about him. The scum that lies at the bottom of the most wretched of sewers cannot even begin to compare to how vile your actions were. You stand by your despicable judgement despite the victim's testimony, despite the strangers who witnessed the crime happen first-hand, despite the nurse that had undeniable evidence of the sexual assault, and despite the jury that quickly pronounced Turner as guilty of three felonies. You act as though you are mightier than the miscreants that stand before you, but you are just as loathsome and sickening as those you throw behind bars; the only difference lying between you and the malefactors is that you wear a pretentious gown and call yourself the law.

Seas part when you near, not because you are a godly figure, but rather because even the bottom feeders in the water cannot bare to be in that close of a proximity to you. The animals in the wild frown upon humanity, thinking “Even we know that the weakest links should be disposed of.” The pigs that roll in mud cringe at the sight of you, and the raccoons with rabies run away in fear of catching whatever vomitous disease you must have because no healthy person would be as revolting as you are. Humans claim to be the superior species, but characters like you prove that assumptions like that are not always accurate.

You see pale skin and male features and determine in that moment that the culprit is undeserving of prison, and that the money that sits in his pockets matter more than the victim whose sanity was taken away, and that the strength of his last name overpowers any shred of integrity you may have had, and that the star athlete was only laying with a girl who was “asking for it,” and you stand in support of your blatantly inequitable sentence, in support of the rape culture that helped you to internally justify your decision, in support of the white privilege that skews the illusion of equality in America, in support of the patriarchy, and in support of the rapist. You try to fool people into believing that you truly think that your decision was just, but even riffraff like you knows how unpalatable Turner’s actions were; you especially revealed this when you gave a latino three years for the same crime, but by all means, you can stick to the story that race had nothing to do with it.

The only thought that comes to mind when pondering over how you can redeem yourself for being an immoral imbecile is if you cease to exist, but honestly, that would not even scrape the edge of the torment that you deserve. Life long torture seems to be a more fitting punishment, but it has become abundantly clear that deciding consequences can be quite subjective. Nonetheless, you must do something to make up for the cruelty you showed not only the victim, but all women and people of color: acknowledge what you did. Admit to the prejudices you gave into and apologize. Will all people accept your last minute attempt at penitence? They most likely will not. The only thing that can be said for sure is that the poor girl, who’s rapist you gave unfathomable leniency to, deserves an apology and deserves to be able to believe in justice again. Then and only then can you even attempt to make what you did right. You should appreciate this chance; someone as abominable as you is not worthy of this grace.

With utmost sincerity,

A person who cares.