By Damien Knight
I wrote this journal in Dec 2003 when I was 17. I was terrified of growing up. I wrote this to vent those feelings.
18? What is it? Is it any different from 16 or 17? 18 is an odd number despite being an even one. 18? A time of change? Yes, that is what it is. A time when American culture proclaims you’re an adult. A time when you leave home and go into the world. Yes, this is 18! A job, an apartment, finish high school, and start college. At 18 you can vote and be taken seriously.
The world is crueler on your own, reality hits. You can’t be carefree anymore. You must listen to those who shout “Aquas!” Those who shout, “Watch out!” I can’t do what I have done in the past. There are no more games, only jail. The things I do can no longer be cleared from my record.
18, o a dreaded yet joyous age. A time when you become responsible for yourself. You decide who you want to be. Be careful though, for if you take the wrong path you lose your dreams and pay the price. The narrow road has its rewards and 18 its privileges. This is 18.
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The Shade of Writing 