A few years ago, I couldn't walk by the doorway to an unlit room. I had to either run by it at full speed or not go by it at all. I kept feeling as if someone were going to jump out and slit my throat.

But now I am one with the darkness. It doesn't bother me and I don't bother it. The darkness eases my mind, relaxes my soul and lets me be me without judgment or ridicule. For darkness doesn't judge, nor does it care about your race, your religion, your skin color. It opens your heart and your mind to the wonders of imagination, and the tunnels of passion and love.

Ah, yes, there is nothing more peaceful, nothing more caring than the darkness. When I'm alone in the darkness, it wraps its loving arms around me. And slowly, slowly, all the frustration, all the agony, all the pain of the day come up through my body in a tidal wave of fire and gently flow out my fingertips and disappear.

It is then, then in the hour of peace, that I listen, feel, taste and touch my entire soul and being. It is then that the words flow from my pen and onto my paper without the hesitancy of before. It is then that I am no longer myself, but that I am the peace. I am the silence, I am the darkness. And I write.

Someone once said, "In the darkness, we are all alike." I find this statement to be true. But truer yet is the fact that although a person may look, act or think differently doesn't mean that their beliefs are necessarily wrong. I think we should all keep this statement in mind as we fulfill our responsibilities and continue with our separate lives.

If we are to have world peace, we must not have world prejudice. n

Writer's Note: You are probably wondering why you are getting manuscripts from someone who lives in Washington state. The answer is simple: I used to live in Brookline and while I was there, I got The 21st Century. I even had an article published last year (A fictional story by the name "Caravan").

Last August I moved to Washington to live with my biological mother, but my father keeps getting The 21st Century and he sends it on to me. I would still like to write for The 21st Century, but if you can't pay me (assuming I get published, I'm optimistic), because I don't live in New England anymore, I'll understand. It's not so much the money (although, let's be honest here, the money's not unappreciated) as much as it's the fact of being able to say that I'm a published writer which gives me status with my peers and teachers.