The sound of snow crunching under feet.
The sound of children, laughing.
The sound of trees swaying in the breeze.
The sound of birds, engrossed in their song.

The sight of white delicate snowflakes blanketing your ebony black hair.
The sight of children running freely.
The sight of leaves blowing through the wind.
The sight of birds, soaring high through the sky.

Instead of seeing a flower, I see a beautiful plant that looks untouched by anything mortal.
Instead of smelling dead fish, I smell the sand dunes and the sea.
Next time you see, smell or hear something, appreciate it. Cherish it.
Because tomorrow at least something will have changed. Tomorrow nothing will ever be the same.

Alyra, remember that day?
That day at the park?
You were three, and I was eleven.
We went to the park with Daddy, Mummy, Molly, Arielle, Ella, Erin, and Pete.

Remember? You played on the playground with Ella and Arielle.
While Erin was teaching me to play basketball.
It was around August, so not too hot.
After we ate lunch, the big kids played touch footy while you went to the sandpit.

At the end is the day, when everyone was talking, you presented me with a big bunch of dandelions.
I told you and the girls to collect some more and I'll make jewelry with them?
You would take off that silly neckless for hours until it broke.
Then, I plaited  flowers through your hair. You looked even more beautiful then you already are.

Just before sunset we danced and danced and danced.
That was the day you taught me 'Doggy Doggy'.
We watched the sunset - all of us.
You were sitting on my lap telling me about your day at kindy the day before.

Alyra, baby girl, try and remember.
Because one day, you won't be a baby girl anymore.
You'll just have memories.
That is why I hang on to them so hard. Because I never want to forget. And I never will. Not when it comes to you.

Conflict.
War.
Battle.
Call it what you want. It is all silly.

Why do we do this?
Why do we fight for land?
Does it give us satisfaction when we drive a sword through another's chest?
From what I've heard, no.

So, why then?
Because really, if this goes on...
There will be a day when humans will destroy each other.
There will be nothing left. We'll have to take drastic measures.

If we weren't so obsessed with money and land, then maybe we could change the world.
Completely get rid of poverty.
Help others.
So, in general, the world would be a better place.

Tomorrow won't be kinder.
Tomorrow won't be a better place.
Unless we show we are worthy of a better place.
Then, maybe, just maybe, there will be one.

"We're fickle, stupid beings with poor memories and great gift for self-destruction.
But who knows? Maybe this is it. The time it sticks.
Maybe we are witnessing the evolution of the human race.
Think about that."

Dearest Jailyah,
You died a placental death.
Did you know that?
I wish you hadn't.

I never met you.
I merely have a photo of you on my phone.
You are one of the most beautiful babies I have ever seen.
You are my cousin, never to be forgotten.

Did you know that the name Jayla means 'a gift from the God'?
You really are a gift.
You had slightly dark skin, and dark brown hair.
Like all babies, you had blue eyes but as you got older they would have turned brown like your parents'.

Nessa, your mother, really misses you.
She cried when she found out you didn't live.
She loves you and the rest of her many other children.
Never forget that. Never ever.

I can't stop thinking about how we would have visited you in a few weeks, and then again in a year.
Of how we would have given you a very girly outfit for your birthday, because then at least someone in the family didn't walk around in jeans all the time.
We'll think about you every day. You'll live in our hearts.
I'll miss you forever and always. I'll love you - forever and always.

Waiting in the dark. Just waiting.
I can't sleep. I will wait until morning.
I just can't risk having that dream again.
That one dream. The dream that changed my life forever.

I dreamt that I was running so fast that I felt like I was flying.
I felt amazing. Smiling, laughing, feeling the wind blow through my hair.
As I approached a house, I saw it was on fire.
When I moved close, I saw that it was specifically my father's house.

"No," I said. Then I started screaming.
"No no no no NO!" I was starting to hear screams.
It was her. Alyra. She came running out of the house as if she was on fire. And she was.
Her pink-white shirt got caught on the door and she was stuck.

I tried to run for her. I did. I really tried.
But these hands grabbed my waist.
I looked back, and could see a boy. Blonde hair, but the face was blurred.
I was so mad that he wouldn't let me get her. I punched him and kicked him, but he just wouldn't let me go.

All he said was "I'm sorry."
Throughout my dream there were so many people whom I loved that died.
Alyra, Molly, my mother, my father, all my close family members like young Isabel, Rose, and T-J. Lilly, Maegan, Mahali, and SO MANY people died.
Each time I couldn't save them.

Then, at the very end of my dream, I fell into a pit.
Everyone who I couldn't save came and buried me alive. Each person giving me one shovel of dirt.
The list went on and on.
I woke up sweating and thrashing about.

And this, is how I learned that I really should not make any more friends.
It hurts to care about people, it hurts to love people.
But there are some whom I just can't help myself with.
I hate caring about them, but it pleasures me to know that they are safe... Safe. Ha. Safety doesn't exist. And the sooner we figure that out, the better off we'll be.

Some kids at school don't like me. That much is obvious.
But the problem is, I don't like me.
But really, how could you like me? With my limp brown hair, and my grey-blue eyes, its pretty obvious I'm no beauty.
My parents don't know.

And then, there is my brain.
Sure I may be in the class that excels in education, but compared to everyone else in the class, I am as dumb someone who can't spell 'car'.
I hate being me. I hate myself.
My first kiss was at a party as a dare. I mean, come on.

I don't deserve to be School Captain.
She deserves it.
She is a better person than me
I must punish myself.

I skip my next class, run home.
Get these things: 1.8 metres of rope, a hammer, an empty glass bottle, a knife, a chair, salt, a pen, and some paper.
I go into the bathroom.
Write a note about how sorry I am to my friends and family.

I smash the bottle. I draw pictures on my arm with it. Using my blood as ink.
I look in the mirror. I see a crazy girl staring back at me. "I hate you! You are worthless!" I scream.
I grab the hammer, smash the mirror.
Use the broken pieces to draw patterns into my leg. Rub salt into the wounds.

I am feeling weak. I am hurting. I am feeling dizzy.
Nearly there. Nearly done.
I grab the knife, slit my wrists.
It hurts. I scream in agony. Blood is streaming out.

I sit on the chair, sobbing into my hands.
I sit up, and try to make a hangman noose.
I can't. I'm too weak. Instead, I rub the rope against my neck until it is red raw.
Finally, when it is all done, I sit on the floor and think, just think.

My parents will find me. I will be featured in the news. I can see it now:
'Human Ragdoll - Girl kills herself in family bathroom, but not before torturing herself.'
Next it will say: 'Parents of the girl say, "We had no idea. We thought she was fine." what is the world coming to?'
Of course you didn't know. Not that you ever took the time to care, I think.

I can hear my parents walking through the door.
I whisper "Goodbye." and I can feel myself fading away. Today was fun.
My father walks through the bathroom door. He holds me and whispers "Stay with me baby, I love you."
I get time for an "I love you too." before I am pulled into darkness.

I run through the long grass, trying not to make a sound
I can hear them coming close with every cautious step I take
I pray that they won't hear me
Take a few  silent few steps forward and hide behind a tree.

Slowly, carefully I rise the rifle to my face
Aim. Take it off standby. Shoot
I just took lives. I go and get the little boy out of the rabbit hole I hid him in
I, just plain old me, just killed people.

I sit, dwelling on what I have just done
Self-defence or ******?
I like to think it was to save the boy, or as some noble crusade to honour my country
But in the end it just means that I valued my life over theirs. Doesn't it?

How many people is it okay to **** in order to keep me alive? Hmm?
At what point do we lose our soles if we haven't already?
It was ******: They hadn't provoked me
It was self-defence: If they found me they would have killed me. Which one is it?

I grab the other guns, they have some good models
I tell the boy to try and and clean up any evidence while I dump the bodies
They weren't much older than I was, and they looked just as scared
I just killed soldiers. Now their painful moans and scared faces haunt me in my dreams.