Dear Terrorists,

Chapter 1

"Sit down," demanded Principal Jones. "Sometimes, Jennie, you just can't say what you think and how you feel. Sometimes it's just better to think it and not share it. You'll hurt somebody's feelings if you're always talking."

"Yes sir," replied Jennie, sulkily staring down at her feet.

Principal Jones circled around his desk and sat down in his leather-buttoned swivel chair.

"I know you're a smart girl, Jennie. I just think that you need to mind your own business rather than always provide input. Some people don't want your input, no matter how helpful it may be. It's just the way some people work. They want to mind their own business and keep you minding your own," he elaborated.

"Yes sir, I understand," reiterated Jennie. "I made a mistake. It won't happen again, sir."

"I hope you understand. This is the fourth time in the last month that somebody has come to me asking you to stay out of their personal matters. I know you mean well, but, please, only help those who ask for it," persisted Principal Jones.

"What if those who need help the most are afraid to ask for it?" asked Jennie innocently as she raised her head from a sulking posture.

"Then those people need to learn how to solve their own problems or be brave enough to request assistance," declared Principal Jones defiantly. "Please, Jennie, please just mind your own matters and leave some people alone."

Jennie sank her heavy head once again. She had been squeezing her interlocking fingers tightly and now realized the pain it caused. She released her fingers from each other's grip and placed her relaxed hands on each of her knees.

"Yes, sir," she abided. "I will be sure to bite my tongue when I feel the urge to help."

"Thank you," concluded Principal Jones. "That's all that I ask. Let Mrs. Gerard handle helping the students. That's what we pay her for. You're here to learn, not to help others who don't ask you for it."

Jennie nodded her head in understanding.

"Now, go back to class and keep up your good work in the classroom," he insisted.

Jennie nodded her head once more and stood up from the chair she had uncomfortably been sitting on. She turned away from Principal Jones and reached for the door to pull it open.

"Jennie," alerted Principal Jones just as Jennie twisted the doorknob. "One more thing."

"Yes?" she inquired, still facing the door.

"Someday," he began, "this world is going to remember you for the good that you do in it. Never settle for the status quo. I don't need to tell you this—because you already know it—but you're a rare breed. Never change that about you, okay?"

Jennie nodded her head in silent confusion.

So he wants me to not help people in school, but he does understand that some people need help in life. So school isn't real life? Is that his point? she pondered.

She didn't understand exactly what he meant because of his comment before it. His ridicule and his advice seemed contradictory to one another.