Dear Sister,

How much longer?
How much longer are you going to put Mom and me through hell and back?

How much longer until you, due to your own immature behavior, end up dead in some sewer somewhere?
How much longer until Mom dies of grief and heartache caused by you?

You don't care.
You don't give a shit.
All you care about are your 'friends', who don't give a shit about you, only use you and abuse you because you have money and a car, while me and Mom watch you spiral further and further downward.

But you're not dragging us down with you. At least, not me.

I love you, but I hate you for what you're doing to us.

Grow the fuck up.
We're tired of cleaning up after you [both literally and figuratively].
I'm tired of being Mom's whipping post because when she's mad at something you did, and you're not there, I'm the target.
Count your lucky stars you're not my daughter. Because I would have cut you out of my life.

Long story short:
My sister fell in with a criminal element, got caught doing drugs and while she was high.