Dear Everyone in the World,

Hello.
Greetings.
I have to tell you something: as of right now, I do not know why I am writing this letter. Please keep reading. Maybe I will discover my reason later on in the letter. However, I can say that. in many ways, this is a letter of intent.

First, let me tell you a little bit about myself. 

I have an addictive personality. I get addicted to foods, smells, hobbies, songs and people very quickly, and I drop my addictions immediately when I discover something newer and more exciting. Because of this, many things that you might find easy and routine are sometimes difficult for me. For example, sometimes when I am in between food addictions, I cannot find anything to eat that will satisfy me, and so I start to lose weight because instead of eating, I stare at the inside of my refrigerator until I get yelled at for letting the cold air out. [Please See:] The transition from toasted peanut butter sandwiches to chive and cheese omelets.

I am sixteen years old. I used to pretend to be sixteen when I was seven, and in my mind, I was huge and smart and beautiful as a sixteen-year-old. I am sixteen years old now, and all I am is terribly insignificant. I am younger that most of the people I'm close to, and I can't help but feel like a speck of a squished bug on their Windshield of Life. My Windsheild of Life is attached to a white VW Jetta with suede interior, which is the type of car I would get if I had enough money to get a car and afford all of the expenses having a car entails. Also, Ariel the Little Mermaid was sixteen, and I'm nothing like her.

I am sixteen years old, and honestly I never thought I'd get here. I often wonder what could have happened to me that allowed me remain alive and thriving for this moment, and I currently believe that it would have to be the complete lack of near-death experiences I have had in my life. I've never been in a car wreck of any kind. I have never broken a single bone in my body. I have not had any disease of any kind. I am very allergic to almost anything air borne, but that is really the extent of anything.

I have decided that I am very, very overdue for a near-death experience. I have decided that I am going to have one tomorrow.

So now that you know a little bit more about me, let me tell you about how I plan on almost dying tomorrow. I will wake up and take a shower. I think I will brush and blow-dry my hair. Then I will put on some clothes. I will eat breakfast, probably strawberry yogurt with some granola. Then, my boyfriend will come to my house to take me to school. When he rings my doorbell, I will let him inside, and then I will kiss him and say, "I'm sorry, but I cannot go to school with you today. You see, today is the day of my first near death experience."

I will squeeze his hand and bound out of my front door. I will feel the sunlight on my face and it will feel so good. It will be the best feeling I have ever felt. I will love it so much that I will face the sunlight and scrunch up all of the muscles I have. Then, as I release them, photosynthesis will kick in. I will sprout inches from my legs and waist and arms and hands and nose and hair and eyelashes and shoulders. I will be growing so much that I will grow right into space, but my feet will still be existing on my front lawn. My head will bump on Mars, and then I will decide that I have grown enough. Up, up, up! I will jump into the galaxy and hug every single planet that I have learned about and my eyes will turn into the brightest stars. Scientists will see them from earth and will start to write reports about these new stars to give to the newspapers for tomorrow's report.

Having made the headlines, I will know that my time in space is done. I will then become a snowflake, and fall with amazing grace to Russia. This trip will take 27 years. In that time, I meet many other snowflakes. They are a friendly species, and they mate for life like humans. I am delighted to see that Russia is still snowy but doing much better than it used to be. The government is friends with its people and they watch soccer games together every Wednesday night. I lay in the snow in Kiev until a Regular Russian Joe on the way home from work steps on me, and I get stuck to his shoe. He takes me home. He takes off his shoes on and leaves them on the floor of his Russian abode. His wife surprised him and bought him new shoes, and he decides to throw away his old ones as he has no sons to give them to. As he is lifting up the lid to his trashcan, I transform again. I am normal sized, clutching his shoes. The Average Russian Joe yelps and drops his shoes to the floor.

"What happened to my old shoes?"
"I can understand you!"
"Who are you!?"
"Here are your shoes, take them. I need to get back to my home."
"Where did you come from? Am I going crazy?"
"You aren't going crazy, you just don't understand English."

The Thoroughly Bewildered Average Russian Joe will give me a thoroughly bewildered look as I bolt through his back door and jump across Russia in a single bound. The numerous transformations that I have undergone have left me feeling very elastic. In fact, I am able to stretch my way across all of Europe and the Atlantic and past Oklahoma and then into 10729 Galsworthy Ln.

I stretch and snap back into my boyfriend's arms, and my parents are there, and all of my friends are standing behind them. The inside of my house is a parade in honor of my First Near-Death Experience. As the band plays and people begin to mingle, a news reporter in full news reporter garb will tap me on my shoulder and I will turn around.

"Please miss, if you don't mind, we'd like to hear your personal account of your First Near-Death Experience."
"Well, I almost got thrown away in a trash can."
"Ahh, yes yes, I see." He will scribble in his notebook, a crease between his eyebrows, as the horns fanfare behind us. "And has this Near-Death Experience taught you anything or given you a new perspective on life?"
"Absolutely. From this point on to the end of my life, I will probably never regard my old shoes as trash, because there is no way for me to know if what I've stepped is ready to die or not. Also, did you know that snowflakes have a different perception of time than we do? 27 snowflake years to 19 Earth minutes."

The reporter will close his notebook and shake my hand, go home, and eat dinner.

Thank you for reading my letter detailing the story of my First Near-Death Experience that will happen tomorrow. The purpose of this letter will remained unexplained to you, though now it is completely clear to me.

Love from,
Rebecca Reinhardt