Day 53: Today at lunch, I met a group of boys whose lieutenants also sent them to the center. The boys told me how the bad people burned their villages and killed their parents. It seemed as if we were all on the same side of the war until I looked down at the table to another group of young men dressed in civilian clothes. I told them they must be weak soldiers to wear civilian clothes. One boy replied, we fought for the other side the army is the enemy. The army killed my family and destroyed my village. A title wave of chaos washed over lunchtime as the uproar began. We drew our weapons and rushed toward each other. It was the war all over again. Perhaps the foreigners thought that removing us from the war would lessen our hatred for the bad people. It had not crossed their minds that a change of environment would not immediately make us normal. We were dangerous and brainwashed to kill. After the guards finally ceased the fighting, two soldiers and four rebels were killed, and several, including two guards, were wounded. A few men transported us to another center on the outskirts of Freetown. The people who run the center tell us that we must attend therapy, schooling, and the nurse’s office. I do none of this. We act violently towards the staff members, often putting them in the hospital. I despise the center. I yearn to return to the front lines where I feel I have purpose.
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