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Being Old This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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   These are my very last hours of fourteen. I hardly remember what fourteen was like. It's all mixed up with twelve and thirteen, same feelings, different situations. I'm scared my childhood is almost over. In one year I will drive, in three I'll vote. I don't feel grown up at all. High school, fifteen.

I've been very confused for the past few weeks mostly about love and feelings. I don't know, I really don't, it just hurts. I would like to be in love, I think. I've wondered what it would feel like to be in love, like movies, like my parents.

Fifteen years old. I read a very stupid quote the other day. It said something about how youth is confusion and age is wisdom. That seems like a very big lie. From experience, age has brought much more confusion than youth has. I know more now then I did when I was ten and I am much more confused. When a person gets older, they don't have as much change or instability, but they certainly are no less confused than I am. Adults start wars and send their children out to fight for them. They have made money very important and work all their lives for it. They worry about everything: car payments, taxes, house payments, bills ... I don't worry about anything really. I go to school all day; I learn. I don't build bombs or make wars. I'm only fifteen and I know that war is wrong. I haven't even lived through war and I know that it's wrong. I'm only fifteen and I will be an adult in a few years. I'll have to leave school and fall in love and work all my life to save up money. Being a little girl is over; I'm fifteen. n


This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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