A/N This is from the POV of a random KND operative and their worries about growing up after seeing these things affecting their older family members and former operatives. It's more of a poem because it is just their thoughts.
I don't want to grow up.
Why do we have to grow up?
As we get older, some friends will leave and we'll never see them again.
Others will change, and leave you behind, as they get new friends, better friends.
Some may even completely forget about you, or you of them, after decommissioning.
We'll have to earn money, for food, for housing, for survival.
We won't see our families as much; we might not see some members at all.
No more staying in our pajamas all day.
No more playing video games till 2 AM.
No more stuffing ourselves with ice cream and candy.
No more carefree days, just watching cartoons with your team.
No more missions, helping other kids by battling adult tyranny.
Instead you'll have to be a grown up yourself.
You'll have to be mature.
You'll have to dress in proper clothes, that are uncomfortable and shoes you can't run in.
You'll have to work all summer, at a job you probably won't like.
You may even become like those you tried to stop as a KND operative.
So, I don't want to grow up.
Because then, there are no more joys of childhood, only the unhappiness of an adult.
A/N Please review! This is my first story so let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is welcome, and flames will be used to roast marshmallows for those who were nice in their reviews!