I wanted out so badly, but I could never bring myself to turn the page. Everyday, I used to pack my things in a trash bag and placed them, hidden, near the front door. I’d then write letters saying goodbye to everyone and I’d seal them shut. Placing them inside the mailbox along with my copy of the house key after my mom checked for mail. Then when day intertwined with night, I waited for everyone to sleep, before I threw off the blanket that protected me and put on my shoes. From there I’d tip toe through the dark towards the front door get my bag and reached for the door knob, but when I got ready to turn it I’d pull my hand off the knob. Then I’d unpack all my things, removed the letters and my key from the mailbox and made my way back to bed. Only to do the same everyday, to this day.


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