Child Army This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.


   I was always the kid who got picked onwhen I was little. That is probably why I am dissatisfied with the "average,popular and cool" culture in which I am trapped. But despite this, or,perhaps, to spite it, satisfaction was always part of my life. Being on thereceiving end quickly hardened me to the annoying creations of society. Before Ieven understood independent thought, I hung onto it like a securityblanket.

I wrapped my stubborn refusal to be just another other facearound my face and soul to guard against the once-hurtful names and laughter. Myescape came at home where I played alone seeking only my own approval. In a moreprecocious than moral attitude, I saw things in my world differently from others.Today I believe it was the childish notion that if I were to be treateddifferently, I might as well be different, that saved my sanity.

Today I often seem cold and unfeeling - even cruel. So be it. Societyre-birthed me at a young age, and now it must face me when I choose. I was ahappy child willing to be different. Now I see I am normal and others are thealiens in my world. I have discarded a security blanket of independent thoughtand gained the steel armor of a one-man society; armor that hides what othersfear - cold honesty. All because I was picked on. I am the invincible child army.

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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