Oct. 19
Dear Alex,
Sean is sleeping, but I'm awake, sitting on our tiny, hard couch. Our apartment is pathetic. It's in a small building that holds a total of three tiny homes. From the front it looks like an average, shabby house. At the side of our building there are wooden stairs that freak me out because they're falling apart- they lead to our front door. Underneath us lives some old man who never comes out, and behind us a middle-age woman and her son are just scraping by. None of us really talks to each other too much- we're all too miserable to care.
Our apartment has two rooms and a bathroom. I'm in the living room right now- it doubles as a kitchen, really. We have an oven, a toaster, a small counter, three cupboards and a bookshelf. And this damn lumpy couch that bruises your tailbone and puts your butt to sleep.
The other room is where we sleep. We share a dresser and our bed is a mattress on the floor. There's stuff strewn everywhere, too. I should really clean up.
But instead I'll sit here, listening to Sean's monstrous snore.
And we thought we were poor before.
Love,
Carrie
YOU ARE READING
Wayward Hearts
Teen Fiction"Remember when we were voted cutest couple at the end of senior year? A lot has changed since then. Tell me- why did you come back?" Alex and Carrie have been best friends for as long as they can remember. Suffering through life in their poor, dump...
