This note. This one note. This small little ticket of joy, was my way out of here. Out of this dump. Where flies constantly infest every corner of your house, where birds never sing, where dogs whimper and whine down alley ways. Where the sky is dyed a permanent inky grey. No person could ever be happy here.

Now I had a chance to leave, and I wasn't letting it slip through my fingers, not this time. I ran home. The house was empty. Thudding up the stairs, I charged into my room and slammed the door. Quickly, I grabbed...