I don't want to have to go to war! America is supposed to be a perfect country! I was supposed to have a perfect childhood and adolescence! You can't expect me to live through a war! Please don't let us go to war. I keep expecting to wake up any moment; as if this were some awful nightmare or some terrible joke in incredibly bad taste. My mind keeps comparing to Orson Welles' rendition of "War of the Worlds"; I can't seem to accept that this is really real. My head hurts whenever I try to wrap my brain around the gravity of what's happening here.

Dr. Magee, the headmistress, is insisting on maintaining a normal schedule, acting as though nothing has happened. It drives me nuts that we're still having to go to our normal classes. It's like when Mrs. Brennan died last year, only thousands of times worse. I can't even begin to comprehend what it's like for the people of Washington, D.C., Pittsburgh, and New York.