Dear Anna,
Day 2.
My room looks like barbie's abondand playroom. I've not gotten a clue as to why can't they put me in a room, less pink. I know this is revenge. I can taste it.
Sorry I didn't call, I was busy unpacking and crying my eyes out -I'm crying right now just so you know. You know what's better? There's hardly a reception in this damn country side.
Aunt Lily suggested to take a drive down the local mall and use a payphone. No, I don't dare to risk my life with these imbeciles. A man gave me the finger when I accompanied Aunt Lily to buy bread yesterday! Piss off.
Sorry for the rant, but then again, isn't it the whole point of writing this letter to you?
Please, I beg you. Get me out of here! A month is long.
Hope to hear from you soon.
Love,
Jonna
(Seriously my hair started falling off, an awful lot)
YOU ARE READING
Dear Anna
Short StoryJonna writes. She writes to her best friend Anna about her holiday at her relatives' country side mansion. It's painful, to share a house with a family friend. Ever since "the White's" home were engulfed in flames, they had no choice but to live wit...
