You know what’s fucked up to me? That I feel the need—now want, but in the beginning it was a feeling that it was my onus to fight. I grew up too fast, faced and burdened by the cruelties of the world. As a kid, I never wanted anything more than simplicity. Now? I feel it’s my duty—a chore, it seems at times—to worry myself to insanity over people I don’t know. I turn on the news and you know what I see? Chaos. Not controlled chaos. No. Pure, unrelenting, pain-fuelled chaos. My aspirations are now to go to law school instead of become a teacher or something simple that I’d enjoy. Not because of the money, no that’s not why I want to be a lawyer, but because I feel I owe it to the people who take the hate and violence I’m too scared to admit I should be shouldering too. These people came out and, even though there was the chance—almost guarantee—that they’d face violence, prejudice, hate, and be stripped of basic human rights. I should still be able to be a kid. Not because of my age or immaturity. But because I should be able to enjoy life; not fear it.