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Thirty-eight special in hand, where are the bullets? Damnit, where did you hide the bullets? I can’t do it anymore; I can’t be perfect for you anymore. For sixteen years I’ve done and been everything you asked, I am what you thought I should be, but when were you going to let me be me? As I began to search the vastness of the world unseen until now it is overwhelming. Why did you shelter me so? I have been so ill prepared to handle the freedom and it’s all your fault, why did you have to be so perfect and make me try and live up to your standards? There is so much I have missed out on, have not had the joy or ability to experience, and now you taunt me with it. I get a taste and you try and hide it, try and scare me with it. Why can’t I make my own decisions for once; don’t you understand that you are hurting me so much more by restraining me. Go away, leave me alone, let me go, I want to do it by myself…Help me, please! The pressures placed on the youth of society today are unique to this generation, for with every passing year the bar is raised and the best keep having t