Dear My Parents,

I really think it's fucked up that when I told you what grandpa had done to me, you both sat me down- and instead of comforting me, you explained why we couldn't go to the police, and guilt tripped me in to feeling bad so I wouldn't be angry with you two.

"He's old now, and karma has already got to him, and if we sent him to jail as an old man, he wouldn't survive."
"He's my dad, I can't send him to jail."

I still love you both. But after a bit of thinking, I think this is why I will be dead before I turn 18.