Children Not Soldiers

            Christmas is probably my worst time of the year. I had no animosity toward the holiness whose birthday is being celebrated. Still, I do have some problems with how we celebrate it.           My name is Selena Garcia, eight years old and the eldest child of two, my father; I have no idea where he is. I do remember, though, that I had one until I was four. How I wish grandma is still alive. She's a bit grumpy, but she's very generous, unlike my uncles and aunts, who are very self-centered and condemnatory. So here I am, sulking inside my room, listening to their voices wherein I, alone, am the topic.            "…that kid is very arrogant," said the spouse of my favorite uncle.

"The one with my tattered t-shirt?" I asked.            "What else?" Helga answered, chuckling like a witch. I really hate her squeaky giggle. It's creepy.           "I did!" I grinned. The corner of her mouth twitched. She put a hand on my shoulder and gripped tight. Aw.           "Then. Why. Are. You, Still with my brother early this morning?" she asked. She glared at me with such hate; I silently thanked God she's not a Medusa incarnate.            Oh yeah. Did I forget to mention, Carlos is her younger brother? She has a severe brother complex if you ask me. Very disturb

I sat down on a bench outside the Science building. I trotted out my chocolate bun and took a bite. I decided cutting classes would be okay now that I am about to go any time.           My life is probably the worst a child could ever experience. Anywhere I go, I'm unwanted. Is there someone out there who's experiencing the same case? I hope whoever you are, you still have the fire to fight and defend yourself.           I closed my eyes and smiled at the warm, soothing breeze which came upon me.           If for just once I accepted defeat, I'd grow into a pitiable w

ACE   I looked down the grassland when I noticed that we've been hovering in place for quite some time now. I then saw several people standing on the field. I watched as they harassed the other one vehemently. Even from afar, I knew that the one fighting was a little girl. And she's encircled by girls like her. The sergeant, who is also the pilot, was looking down as well. Slowly, he started to descend. He must've realized by now that the little girl is about to get hurt. Whoever it was that the sergeant will pick up for the Boot camp must come from this place. This is their last 'stop,' the sergeant was talking about. I watched her use amateurish moves to overwhelm her aggressors. And as I looked down, their physiques grew bigger, and her enemies increased in number. How? How can she take them down with her crude moves? Attacks like hers should be too predictable,

The Arrival We landed amid a clearing inside a thick forest. Clive and I jumped off the helicopter and looked around.  He frowned and approached Sergeant Paris.           "Where's the campsite?" he asked. "You're not going to try and kill us here, are you?" I looked around and realized that we were out of nowhere. I cleared my throat, terrified. We're with an adult soldier who just threatened to kill us a while ago. This can't be it.           The soldier looked at him thoughtfully. "Actually... I will."           And his