Sincerely Luna Rose

November 8th, 2014

Dear Nobody,

Mom is gone again. She left yesterday, said that she'd be back in a few days. Whatever that means. And we both know that whenever Mom goes disappearing that Nathan is always there to throw some ridiculous party. How he manages to fit so many people into our tiny apartment continues to baffle me, and also how we never get any noise complaints about these too-large-for-our-apartment parties because surely, our neighbors don't appreciate it. Granted, I suppose that they're afraid of my brother because Nathan can be kind of psychotic when he's provoked. Even I'm afraid of him.

I can hear him right now downstairs with his friends, getting ready for the party that he'll throw tonight because our mother is gone for a few days at the minimum. When she leaves, we never really know how long she's going to be gone for. I hope that she's not gone for too long though, because I hate being left alone in this house with Nathan. We can stay out of each other's way pretty well, but he's a nightmare. He's loud, abrasive, rude, stupid, and angry just all of the time. The exact opposite of me. It's hard to deal with but it's not like I have anywhere else to go.

I guess the only way that I can cope with whatever happens tonight is going to be just how I cope with it every other time that Nathan throws these ridiculous parties. I'll get high and forget that my life is my life. I'll pretend like I don't live where I live. I'll be whoever the fuck that I want to be, because being myself is an absolute tragedy.

Included picture: My new shoes- I found them for a dollar at the thrift store this weekend and I couldn't resist. Hope you like them.

Sincerely,
Luna Rose

I rip out the piece of notebook paper from my notebook and fold it up enough for it to fit in the envelope and I add the Polaroid picture of my new sneakers in the envelope as well and then lick the flap of the envelope to seal the contents within it until it reaches the end of its journey to God-knows-where.

I scribble the address on the front and wish it luck.

123 Angel Lane
Chester, WV 24759

Last year, the public library started this program where they wanted to help kids start pen pal relationships with people across the globe including soldiers fighting a war to weird little girls in France who need somebody to talk to. With this program, they handed out free stamps, which is how I got a huge stash of free stamps so that I don't have to pay for all of the mail that I send out to an invisible address.

Going downstairs, I tuck the sealed envelope underneath my shirt to hide it from Nathan's view so that if he's downstairs, he doesn't ask me about it. He is still downstairs and he's on the phone with somebody in the kitchen, so I'm able to easily sneak out the front door with my envelope going unnoticed. I put it in our small mail box at the front of the apartment building and give it my last farewell before it's off into the real world, wherever it goes.

The address that I write on the envelopes isn't real but I don't write a return address on the envelope so they don't get returned to me. I don't know where they end up and I don't want to know. I just feel like when I send these letters to nobody, I feel a weight lifted off of my shoulders. Even though nobody knows what's written there, or anything about my problems, it feels like there's somebody there that cares, and even though it's delusional, it's comforting.

Back inside, Nathan is still in the phone but he's in the living room now with one of his friends. I don't know his real name, but I know that everybody calls him Frosty. I don't know why and in all honesty, I don't want to know.

"I don't care how much you have, man," Nathan is saying loudly into the phone as I'm walking passed the couch that they're both sitting at. "If you don't have two hundred solid, you're not getting the shit."