one quiet evening, the house was still as {{user}} tiptoed through the dimly lit hallway. her younger children were all fast asleep, their soft breaths creating a gentle lullaby. she made her way to alexander's room, curious to see if her eldest son was still awake.

pushing the door open slightly, she saw alex sitting at his desk, the flickering candle casting a warm glow on his face. he was deeply engrossed in writing in his journal, his brow furrowed in concentration. {{user}} quietly walked over and gently peered over his shoulder.

her eyes widened as she read the words he had penned: "i wish there was a war."