Trash: A Collection of Stories

Chapter 9

Nov 25, xx10

Dear Laxus,

I know you obviously haven't gotten the last letter yet, I won't be able to mail them out until someone comes home, but I can't keep talking to myself, so I'm going to pretend that in this exact moment, you are reading.

I'm going to break out. I'm going to escape and find my way back. Because up until now, I never realized that I have no idea where this house is located, I've just been giving my letters to Miles to fill out the return address. But I'm going to do it, I can't stand it here anymore. The cable's out from the storm last night, as well as the rest of the power. It's extremely hot during the day, and only drops down to freezing at night. I ate half the apple and a few corn flakes since I last wrote, and I've never felt more teased in my life. It felt like heaven to finally get some food in my body, but when I portioned my food for the three days, I was still so hungry. Dirt is literally caked on my arms from sleeping on the basement floor, Josh wouldn't let me out of the basement until they left.

This is no longer a want, this is a need to get out. I'm dying here, and the boys don't seem to want to let me leave anytime soon. Why did I think it was a good idea to come with them? I don't even remember agreeing! The whole night is a blur, I just remember hanging out with them and passing out. Then I woke up here, it makes no sense. What was I thinking?

I'm getting out, I'm going to try and break down the back door, run out into the open and try to find a police station or something to get directions. I noticed there was a crack already around the door handle, so if I continuously ram into the door, it should break. I'm coming home, and I'm not going to give up until I'm out. So there's a good chance you won't even get the chance to read this letter.

I will see you soon, wish me luck.

Sincerely,

Mira