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By Logan McElfresh

I chose her. I believe her name is Anne. She is young, quiet, apprehensive and most importantly, vulnerable. Anne lives at home with her brother who is constantly out, wasting the nights away and her mum who works late shift most nights. If I remember correctly, I first found her a year back; the day after her father's unfortunate death. Anne was always the shy type and was always distancing herself from the outside world, especially after her father distanced himself from her. Although always avoiding physical interaction and keeping everything to herself, Anne was always satisfied with her life and saw the good in everything.

She walked into the classroom with a smile on her face. As usual, she picked the seat in the back corner of the class to avoid being asked questions. As she began to unravel her books and equipment, she felt dizzy; she couldn't breathe. She looked around desperately to see if she was the only one and sure enough everyone else was fine. She felt tense and scared and clasped her neck as she gasped for air. Yet, to everyone else, she was the same old Anne, sitting at her desk ignoring everything that came by. She helplessly called for help but no-one was there. Voices began to echo in her head. Hundreds of them laced with hatred, engulfing her every thought. She wanted to stand up but hundreds of weight left her stuck in her chair. Even reaching for her bottle was the hardest task in the world. She knew there were at least thirty people in the class but she felt that no one knew she was there. Darkness began to surround her and the light she used to see had faded. I had finally got her. These were only some of the minor effects of my work.

My work must remain a secret. However, I can tell you that I am hated by everyone. I am frowned upon and constantly pushed aside. I take control of others and leave them with nothing but darkness. I manipulate people's feelings and restrict them from living their life. I thrive on sadness and trap people in a state of loneliness with no escape. Every now and again, I come and go, but you will definitely know when I'm there.

I chose Anne because she is an easy target. With no family to rely on at home, (since her father died) she has no-one to protect her from me. Her family hasn't recognised her sadness and she feels as alone as she ever has. Anne did nothing to deserve it, but I couldn't help it. It was a perfect opportunity which I took and don't regret. Anne is yet to overcome me as I have overcome her.

Of course, Anne isn't the only one. Millions come and go every day. Some call me dangerous. Some say I'm a threat. But my name is depression; and Anne Wilson is my victim.