Perfect? (a short story)

Dear mom and dad, I know thinks haven't been...quite right with me recently, but I can assure you now, in my utmost confidence that things will be alright again.

As I sit here, in the middle of the forest, I start to think about how good my life was before I left. I was happy with myself, and had an optimistic view until january 3, 2002. I guess you are wondering why I left, right?

I was depressed, in the vortex of self-dissapointment, no one seemed to care that I was broken, tired, and unloved. It was this day that I decided to leave my life behind me. I am tired of running. I have exausted every possible chance, I have used my last "get out of jail pass"

The light infront of me is becoming very cold, and oh so bleak.

That is why I am here, misrible and as cold as I feel I can possibly get. I am afraid to open my eyes, aswell as close them. I have been defeated.

If you are reading this, mom, I am gone. You will never see me again.

I know I am not perfect, and that I have dissapointed you, but you have dissapointed me too. I thought you loved me, yet you put me down every day.