Dear Anonymous,
"Look how ashamed I was in front of my friend because of you!"
Isn't that what you're going to say? Yeah, probably. But I won't say this in real life, so here we go:
I told you I wanted to leave. I told you but you had me stay. Listen, don't boast about me like I'm some pretty object. If I wanted to boast I'd do it without your help. I'm a lot better in it than you are.
So when I ignore on purpose, don't act oblivious. Don't push me further. I thought you were smarter (and a great deal of things better) than me when you were my age. So have you gone stupid and dull now? I wonder.
Don't the hours I spend alone in my beautifully dim-lit room tell you enough how much I like privacy? Mention ONE person I openly show or tell anything I do to. So now I'm being showed off to every other guest like I'm a some new piece of furniture? Well, in case you did not notice, I'm not. I am your daughter; I am also human.
I've been enduring THAT for four days and you should know how horrible it is. I don't feel like acting like some smart and sweet and pretty girl I am not in front of your friends whenever they come, and I definitely didn't feel like doing it this time. I'm sick of it. And I TOLD you I WAS tired.
And you are by no way my means of socializing with people, so when I TOLD you I needed to leave you didn't have to start telling me to tell her this and that when I made it clear I'd rather not. Haven't you ever heard me say the most boastful things of my self, never seriously? If I wanted to boast anytime I'd just say them seriously. It's great fun, you know, giving compliments. If I wanted to I'd never stop. I could be as boastful as I poet.
And not all your trusty friends are mine too, and I'm not half as open to my close friends as you are to yours. And you've got too much trusty friends, in my opinion. And they come over too much.
-The DAUGHTER.