Young Blood


I am young.

Said like that, it is a matter of fact, but ever since I blew out thirteen candles five years ago, I have forgotten how to be young. 

"There is a monster," they used to tell me, "there is a monster at the end of -teen, the end of school, the end of youth. There is a monster, so do not let one second slip by your plan of action. There is a monster, be wise, prepare yourself so you do not die."

I heeded their advice like a soldier preparing for war, but as I welded armors and shields and helmets made of stone, I found an emptiness in their instruction. They had not told me that I'd die of hunger and thirst and fatigue first.

So let us not go fighting dragons and spilling young blood, I would tell them if I could, not yet.
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