We May Both Be Bad, But There’s

I Tell Myself, As Sternly As Possible, That Is How Things Work Here. We Do Dangerous Things And People Die. People Die, And We Move On To The Next Dangerous Thing. The Sooner That Lesson Sinks In, The Better Chance I Have At Surviving Initiation.

Four Sits Down On The Edge Of The Carousel, Leaning Against A Plastic Horse's Foot. His Eyes Lift To The Sky, Where There Are No Stars, Only A Round Moon Peking Through A Thin Layer Of Clouds. The Muscles In His Arms Are Relaxed; His Hand Rests On The Back Of His Neck. He Looks Almost Comfortable, Holding That Gun To His Shoulder. I Close My Eyes Briefly. Why Does He Distract Me So Easily? I Need To Focus.

But Now I’m Wondering If I Need It Anymore, If We Ever Really Need These Words, “dauntless,” “erudite,” “divergent,” “allegiant,” Or If We Can Just Be Friends Or Lovers Or Siblings, Defined Instead By The Choices We Make And The Love And Loyalty That Binds Us.

I Catch Myself Thinking 'thank God For This' Out Of Habit, And Then I Understand What He's So Concerned About. What If My Parents' God, Their Whole Belief System, Is Just Something Concocted By A Bunch Of Scientists To Keep Us Under Control? And Not Just Their Beliefs About God And Whatever Else Is Out There, About Right And Wrong, About Selfishness?

Human Reason Can Excuse Any Evil; That Is Why It's So Important That We Don't Rely On It.