Huh? How did you get here? You aren't supposed to be here.

Why?

Because I don't exist.

That's right. I. Don't. Exist. There is no "I". There is no "me".

However, my non-existent self will humor your trivial pursuits, as you are a most unfortunate person to have shown up on a page that doesn't exist. That, or you're just strange.

Assuming that "I" were real, I would tell you that my name is Kaitlyn. I would also tell you that I am the age of sixteen (such a nice age to be...er, not that I would know). If I were actually speaking to you, you would learn that I love dragons; they are not real, just as I am not real. The number 13 amuses me, as well as 9,876,543,210 and 8.

And you're still here.

Still here.

Reading about someone who doesn't exist.

Yep.

Honestly, don't you have something better to do?

Yes? No?

No...?

Well then, might I suggest this: using only a spork and a single pinky toenail clipping, make yourself a shrink suit? Wait, that's not all. Once you have successfully reduced yourself to the size of a pea, go to the pet store and buy yourself one of those odd rolling hamster contraptions. Insert yourself into said contraption. Then find me a corner. Bring it back to me in a candy bar wrapper that was in your trash can exactly five years ago to this date.

Think you can do all that?
Good! 'Cause you're not reading any futher until you do this.
When you see "STOP READING", stop reading and do the above activity.

Okay...

Ready?

STOP READING.

...

.........

...................

What, you're back?
You did all of that already?
I don't believe you. Go do it again.

...

You are either very talented or a dirty, rotten liar.

What will it take to convince you that there is nothing here that would be of any importance to you - I mean, especially if you're smart enough to make time machines out of sporks and toenail clippings?

Okay, you win. I'm real. There, are you happy?

...

You have now reached the end. Isn't it great to know you read all of this for nothing? You could've won a Nobel Prize for your mad time-machine making skills, and instead you've chosen to read a stupid blurb posted by a dorky girl who has nothing better to do with an hour than to sit here and write all of this?

Nice going, genius.