You can’t tell anyone! Remember, you told us these Free Writings were private. I think you even said sacred, didn’t you?
So I’m leaving this weekend. Taking off. This friend—she goes to Catholic school, you don’t know her—lives just a couple of blocks away. I can stay in her room in the basement—her parents never go down there. We’ll just be careful about noises, running the shower and stuff.
My parents don’t want me at home anymore. It’s obvious. All they do is judge me all the time. The words I use, the music I like, the way I dress, eat, read, watch—even laugh. (I’m too loud a laugher, they say. I should be quieter about it, I’m not sure why.) And I’m sick of it.
I bet they won’t even notice when I’m gone. And when or if they do notice, I bet they don’t even report it. I don’t think they’ll be sad at all, either. Just relieved. (Me, too.)