What an twelve year old Palestinian girl might be thinking?

There’s a monster over there.   There is.   Everybody knows about it and they told us also.   But it wasn’t like they said.   Oh, it is a powerful beast that attacks with sudden deadly force.   It attacks cowards and fools first but eventually gets to the rest of us.   Yet they suddenly turn toward the children and other simple souls and bring us to safety.   But this was not a topic of discussion among our tribesmen.    Things were so confusing anyway.    The paramilitary training with live ammunition was fun but I’m a little afraid of all the guns anyway.   And there’s lots of guns and other things even in our aunt’s bedroom.   I guess I liked the uniforms and masks we used to make parades.     It was wonderful really.     Together with my friends.    I don’t want to hear bombs anymore.    Every time one of our heroes shoots a missile toward the monster I feel sick for a few moments or hours hoping the monster’s missiles find the right target and let us live.   I never told anyone but sometimes I think the monster is not bad.    Our heroes all die and we must get ready to join the endless war against the monster.    I’m not sad. 

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