It's Not Cruelty, Maybe, But A Desire

I Know That I'll Be Writing For Young Adults For A Long Time. Mostly Because I Just Love The Readers And The Teachers And Librarians That I Interact With.

I Don't Want To Stop You. I Want You To Stop Yourself.

I'm Going To Stop A Revolution,'' I Say. I Turn Right, And Peter Follows Me.

I Just Wanted To Thank You' He Says, His Voice Low. 'a Group Of Scientists Told You That My Genes Were Damaged, That There Was Something Wrong With Me - They Showed You The Test Results That Proved It. And Even I Started To Believe It.' He Touches My Face, His Thumb Skimming My Cheekbone, And His Eyes Are On Mine, Intense And Insistent. 'you Never Believed It,' He Says 'not For A Second. You Always Insisted I Was... I Don't Know, Whole.

I Look Older. Maybe It's The Short Hair Or Maybe It's Just That I Wear All That Has Happened Like A Mask. Either Way, I Always Thought I Would Be Happy When I Stopped Looking Like A Child. But All I Feel Is A Lump In My Throat. I Am No Longer The Daughter My Parents Knew. They Will Never Know Me As I Am Now.