Dear Mrs. Cartridge,

   I don’t believe in Aliens. As much as I would love to imagine giant green monsters living in the sky, I just can’t bring myself to believe that they exist outside of movies and the imagination. Although, I do think that I possess alien like qualities. It might sound weird, but just hear me out. I say this because, I constantly feel like no-one understands me, like I am speaking some foreign language and no matter how hard I try to communicate, I can never seem to understand other people and they never seem to understand me.

  I also always feel like a freak, like I never belong anywhere I go and that people look at me differently. So, I don’t necessarily think that Aliens exist, but if they did, I know that I would be one. And that’s okay, because I am used to being the freak that everyone is scared of, and in a weird, grotesque way, I kind of like it like that.
   My name is Kittrage, but people call me Kit. I’m seventeen years old, and like most of my fellow teen population, I suffer from depression. People always feel bad for  me, they try to be extra nice to me and pretend like they care about my feelings but really they’re just playing the pity card. I don’t exactly like the term depression…it’s very depressing. I know, it’s cliche, but I prefer to call my depression my black hole. Because, that’s what it is. It’s a black hole, deep inside of me that sucks up all of my emotions and feelings and buries them so deep that I have no way of every finding them again. But that’s okay, because I like my black hole. It’s apart of me, and I’m learning to live with it.
   I don’t have a lot of friends, I’m not really the type that like to go shopping and flirt with boys or have sleepovers while gossiping about the latest trends at school. I prefer to just be on my own, doing my own thing. not having to worry about anyone else but my self. My only friend is my neighbor Dean. He is a grade older than me and he is really into comic books, superheroes and films. Which is cool, I guess…if you’re into that type of thing.
   Mrs. Cartridge, when you asked us in class today to write a short essay about ourselves, so you can get to know us better, I thought that I would be totally honest with you, you seemed pretty cool. However, as I write this essay, I feel that maybe I am taking this assignment way to seriously. But, I should have you know that I’m taking it seriously because this is the last time I will ever perform such essay. You see, I have had some time to really evaluate and look at my life, and I’ve decided that I can no longer take the pity remarks and the feeling of emptiness inside of me. I can’t keep faking my emotions. Life is hard, and I know I am giving up and not being strong, but you see, I have been strong for so long. One day, It’s just time to face reality and realize that sometimes being strong is not enough.
    I’ve come to that realization pretty quick in my life. I want you to know that I’m not really the type to be all dramatic and attention seeking, so I’m just going to get to the point. When I saw you in class on the first day of school, you stood out. I knew that you weren’t just like any other teacher, that you actually care about your students. You actually seemed like someone I could talk to, someone who would understand me.
   I don’t mean to be blunt, but every time I see you in class, I see a sadness about you, and a hole, like mine. I know that whatever I write and whatever I tell you that you may actually and truly know what it’s like to live a dark and torturous life. To live everyday fighting to be happy and to feel alive.
  And that is why I decided to tell you my life story. I want you to understand why I do the things that I do, why I have to give up. You see, one of my favorite quotes is  “The goal in life is not to live forever, but to create something that will.” I don’t want to live forever,  I just want to be remembered, I want someone to know and to really understand who I am as a person and carry my memory on.
    So without further to do, I will tell you my life story. Once and for all, and then you will really know who I am, unfiltered and exposed.