The Children

     I had noticed some kids overhead playing near a slightly run-down barn, they were laughing and smiling with no worries in mind and having a great time. There was a child who stood out from among the crowd, a young girl, she was as delicate yet as stunning as a flower and her laugh sounded like the light tinkling of polished glass. As I had gotten a bit closer, they had asked me if I was wanting to join them. They had informed me that they were playing a game called Davy Crokette, where the children would lock one of the others in the barn, then try to rescue them. I found the whole idea quite immature, people shouldn't joke or pretend to keep someone imprisoned, it wasn't a joking matter. Those children came across as opulent, they were probably never exposed to any other life other than there, so how was I supposed to expect them to anything about my life? Sometimes I feared children more than I feared adults, children were capable of making the fine distinction between whether or not I am an ordinary 12 year old boy or not, they'd be able to tell that I didn't know how to interact with other children my age or now how to express my happiness, but adults on the other had would just think I was wise and was ahead of my years.