I Messed Up Bad, Mom

Mom, it's me. I know you can't read this, but I need to say it somewhere. Remember how you always told me to be honest, even when it hurt? I didn't listen. After you died, Dad was... well, you know. He was a mess. And I started 'helping' with the bills. Small lies at first. 'The electric bill was higher this month, Dad.' Or, 'They charged extra for the water.' Just little things to take a bit of money. I told myself I needed it, for clothes, for going out with my friends. Things you would have given me if you were still here.

It got worse. I started taking bigger amounts. Then Dad got sick, really sick, and I told him the insurance wouldn't cover everything. More lies. I used some of the money to pay for things, but I kept a lot of it. I told myself I'd pay it back, but I never did. Dad died thinking we were broke.

I feel so guilty. I drive your car, the one you left me, and I can't even look at it without feeling like a thief. I wish I could tell Dad the truth, but he's gone. I wish I could tell you, but you're gone too. I just needed someone to know. Even if it's just the internet.