Dear whoever took my phone,

I hope you’re enjoying your new cell phone! Don’t be in too big of a hurry to sell it off, because it actually has more value than meets the eye. I’d say the most valuable part about it is the thousands of photographs with my friends an family I’d taken. Or, maybe it’s the electronic chemistry flash cards, that I made so I could get an A on the test. Perhaps, it’s the voice memo recorder you’ll enjoy the most, with my homework assignment that’s due tomorrow logged on it.

If you’ve already sold it to someone else, that’s too bad. After all, you have missed out on the opportunity to use my chemistry flashcards to learn the most common ions! I do hope that you were able to get a pretty penny for it, because I can only hope that a great deal you get off of my phone will prevent you from taking someone else’s.

I’ll admit that you outsmarted me. You outsmarted me because you took my phone so soon after I’d left it in the restroom of the community college. You outsmarted me because I was naïve. After I couldn’t find my phone that Friday, I went home with hope that the phone was lost, but not stolen. Of course, that hope was crushed after I tracked the call log online and saw that you had called Pizza Hut. You outsmarted me because I was lazy, deciding to not put a passcode on my phone. You outsmarted me because I made it way too easy for you.

You probably think you took the better end of this bargain, but I’ve taken the most from this experience. I’ve learned that no matter how lazy I may feel, it’s still important to keep a password on my phone. I’ve learned that I should back up my photographs, because they could all be gone in an instant. And most importantly, I’ve learned that losing my cell phone isn’t the end of the world. That sometimes, unplugging yourself from texts, calls, and mobile social media can actually make you a more relaxed person.

I’ve forgiven you, but karma will come back to bite you.  You’ll probably never get caught, at least not for taking my phone. But deep down in the back of your head, I know you’ve got a conscience. Or at the very least, I can hope that you know that what you’ve done is wrong. Despite the good that you’ve given me through this experience, the ends don’t justify the means.

Sincerely, Claudia