Dear Lauren,

Hey. It's been a while. These past two days have been so hard. I don't know how I've made it.

I wanted to write to you yesterday, but I didn't have any time. I've been so overwhelmed, although it doesn't feel like I have a right to say it.

I asked my mom if I could have a break from martial arts. She was really sincere about it, but her point was clear enough. I'm not allowed to miss another testing cycle until swim starts again.

On top of that, I'm supposed to have all of my lines memorized, but I don't. I'm a disappointment. I also learned the dance I'm supposed to do in front of everyone today. The rest of the dancers are supposed to be looking at me during it so we can stay on time. I hate being in the dead center and being the oldest.

They told me that they finished building the bus for the play. I told a few of the other people there, but one of the other people there who's the bus mechanic told me that I wasn't supposed to tell anyone. I don't get the harm, nor do I remember the director telling me that, but I can't stop feeling like a failure.

I feel like I need to tell someone, but I also feel like it's selfish to do that. Everything just hurts. I don't know how you made it as long as you did.

I went to go see the Barbie movie today. When it got to the scene where Barbie was talking about how she doesn't feel like she's enough, I almost cried. I feel the same way.

I want so badly to have my voice heard, but I'm selfish, I'm annoying, I'm a know-it-all, I'm a teacher's pet, I'm dumb, I'm stupid, I'm someone who doesn't deserve anything.

I'm scared to talk to anyone about it because then it'll seem like I'm doing this all for attention. My life's pretty great, there's someone who deserves it more. I have two parents that love me and a little brother, something I'm sure a lot of people wish for.

I also don't want to seem like a troublesome child. All my life, I've been praised by my parents and my aunt for being so quiet and an easy child, especially compared to my cousins and brother who are constantly making them cry, wondering what they did wrong. I don't want to add to that pain.

Sometimes I wonder if I published and wrote this book all for attention, or if my mind is trying to gaslight me. I don't think it's an answer I'll ever find out, no matter how much I want it.

Does everybody feel like they're nothing at one point in their life. Part of the play is all about that. In one song, we're supposed to act out something we're good at, and I chose reading. I don't think I should be doing that. So many people can read, it's not that special. At first, I thought about crocheting, but I'm not really good at it. I can only do basic stuff, how's that something special about me?

I can't become president, a writer, a teacher, an activist, an actor, maybe not even be an astronomer. There's nothing special about me. I can't rule or take over the world. I'm just me, not-special-or-amazing-at-all-Orchid.

You could've probably changed the world with just the snap of your fingers. You were just that good. No one could ever compare.

Did you know that there's a law thing that the government is trying to pass for website safety and stuff? It's called a really long sentence that I don't remember, but the acronym is KOSA. If it's passed, I might not be able to write to you again. I don't think I could survive without this, or all the wonderful people I've met on my short time here.

It might not matter though. Some day we'll all die, and I'll finally get to be back with you, Mercy, Chloe, Cheyene, Mrs. Roberts, Coach Mark, Mrs. Trumble, Carson, and Callie. Too many pets and people have passed.

Maybe in some alternate world you're still alive and I don't feel like I'm barely holding my life together. I'd probably call that world a miracle.

Again, I'm so sorry.