The Adults Are Talking by The Strokes.

Don't go there, because you'll never return. That's what they always said about the place. That's what they called it, too. Always "the place" this and "the place" that, never a proper name. You'd think that if a location was so terrifying, they’d give it a name. Perhaps a scary one, too. “Human Shredder”, “Shrine of Heros”, something like that. Now, that’s a place kids will never try to go in. Unless they’re stupid.

I guess I shouldn’t say that, because I’d be calling myself stupid too. Yes, Mom. Yes, Dad. I’m writing this letter in case I don’t come back. I’m hoping you’re not too upset, though I actually don’t care that much. Sorry if that sounds really cold hearted, but I’ve been trying to talk to you guys for the past month, and neither of you bothered to reply. It’s okay, I’m not that mad. I know you guys love me, and you probably just expected the other parent to do the hard-lifting. At this point you’ll know why I’m angry. It’s okay to be busy with your work, but I have been paying for my own food, electricity, internet, and all that. For a few months now, actually. You guys keep forgetting to do it, and I still live here.

Getting a job at 13 is hard, but not impossible if you have a few skills under your belt (and you know how to use the internet). I know you guys are busy so I didn’t bother you two about any of it. But I just wanted to ask about where my passport was, so I could register for my school’s scholarship, and neither of you would talk to me. You all kept brushing me off, thinking I was just being disruptive. But I wouldn’t be bothering you if it was super important, and I hoped you’d know that.

It doesn’t matter anymore, I don’t know why I’m getting so worked up anyways. I’m going to the place now. I’ve packed my bags, and I’ve been getting ready for a long time. School ended back in June (in case you didn’t know), and neither would the neighbors talk. I told them I had a great summer camp to attend. They told me I was lucky to have great parents.

Whatever you have to say, don’t. You won’t get a chance. Even if I live, I’m not coming back. Call it petty, or call it stupid. It doesn’t make a difference to me anyways. Only no one will tell me to shut up because “the adults are talking”, which is a welcomed change.

-Signed, Your Daughter.