It happened again. Every week when they drop me off, I hope that it won’t. It does every time though. I am 12 years old now, I think I am old enough to stay at home for a couple of hours during the day by myself. But Mom and Dad don’t think I am responsible. Whatever that means. I can be good, and I try. I guess I am not good enough for them to think I am responsible and they keep making me go.


I just close my eyes now and think about what it will be like when I am grown up. When I have someone who loves me and believes me. When I don’t have to worry about school, or grades, or being alone. I’ll have friends then, a lot of them. And I won’t have to see or listen to them any more. Because I will be the grown up and they won’t be able to tell me what to do any more.


They stopped letting me go see Grandma. She was the only person I could talk to. They said she was making things up and wasn’t well. They have just put her somewhere away from me. I miss her. I want to find her, I want to write a letter and tell her that I will come get her and we will run away.


I guess I have to go. Mom is yelling at me to do the dishes, and my school work and to go to bed. I hate my life.

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