Yes... it is... it is....
Write a letter meant to reassure someone that everything will be okay.
However, as the letter unfolds, it becomes increasingly clear to the reader that things are absolutely not okay.
The writer may be minimizing, rationalizing, avoiding, manipulating, or slowly unraveling. The key tension of the piece is the gap between what the writer is trying to convince the reader of and what the reader can clearly see is happening.
This is a study in denial, unreliable narration, and emotional pressure.
Decide who is writing and who the letter is for:
Renter → landlord
Child → parent
Partner → partner
Patient → loved one
Authority figure → subordinate
The relationship should create a power imbalance, emotional dependence, or fear of consequences.
Pick a situation that is objectively serious, but that the writer insists is manageable, temporary, or misunderstood.
Possible directions:
Humorous / Absurd
Minimizing obvious damage or disaster (house damage, car wreck, workplace disaster).
Melancholy / Psychological
Someone facing illness, loss, or collapse while trying to remain brave.
Dark / Unsettling
A manipulative or controlling voice attempting to normalize harm or wrongdoing.
Important: The focus should be on language and rationalization, not graphic detail.
The opening should sound calm, confident, and comforting.
“Please don’t worry.”
“I just wanted to explain…”
“Things look worse than they are.”
As the letter continues:
Details begin to contradict the reassurance
Justifications become defensive
The writer repeats themselves
The tone shifts subtly (forced optimism, desperation, anger, confusion)
End Without Resolving the Truth
The letter should not admit the full reality.
The reader should understand the truth before the writer does, or understand that the writer refuses to face it.
Dear Mr. Alvarez,
I just wanted to reach out and let you know that everything is under control. The situation with the apartment is really not as bad as it might have sounded over the phone.
Yes, there was a small kitchen fire, but fires are technically a normal part of cooking. The scorch marks are mostly cosmetic, and the smoke smell is already fading if you don’t breathe too deeply.
The water damage from the sprinkler system is mostly contained to the ceiling, which was old anyway, and the downstairs neighbor said they “heard dripping,” not flooding.
I think once you see it in person, you’ll realize this is being blown way out of proportion.
Please don’t worry. I’ve always been a responsible tenant.
Dear Mom,
I don’t want you to panic, because panic doesn’t help anyone. The doctors were very calm when they explained everything, which I think is a good sign.
They said it’s aggressive, but “aggressive” just means they’re paying attention. I’m still going to work, mostly. I get tired faster, but that’s probably stress.
I keep telling myself that people live full lives with things like this. I looked it up, and the numbers aren’t as bad if you don’t focus on the percentages.
Anyway, I just wanted you to hear it from me first, because I’m okay. I am.
I’ll call you tomorrow if I feel up to it.
You need to understand that I would never do anything to hurt you. That’s the most important thing.
I know you say it makes you uncomfortable, but discomfort isn’t the same as harm, and sometimes people confuse the two. I’m only trying to teach you what’s normal.
If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t explain myself this carefully. If you really think about it, I’m the one being patient here.
One day you’ll see that this was for your own good. You just need to trust me a little more.
Unreliable narration
Tone vs. subtext
Manipulative language and minimization
Psychological realism
Reader inference
Ethical handling of dark material