Devynn of Nerdfighteria

I said I was a writer so here's something I wrote:

It was a simple day at James Ester Middle School, when the sun did not shine brightly, yet it wasn't dark and dreary either, just a simple day that wasn't that significant. Of course, you may be asking, why would this be written if it was insignificant? There would be no story. Nothing too special happened that day except that one conversation in Mr. Brown's social studies class which is exactly what you are here to read or hear if someone is reading this aloud to you right now.
As you can imagine, it being a class full of sixth graders, you may get a little off topic. I think the conversation had started when Judy, a rather sweet little girl with her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail with a blue ribbon, had asked a very random question she had pulled from the small day dream she was having. It sounded somewhat like this, “Mr. Brown, I don't really pay attention a lot.” A boy in the back of the class murmured,”You got that right,” and Judy turned with a warning glare. After he quickly stopped snickering, Judy turned back to Mr. Brown and continued, as if nothing had happened,“But why are we at war right now?”
Mr. Brown was a great teacher and didn't mind questions that were off topic and felt it his duty to answer any questions that may occur in any child's head, but thought it wise to take this situation and use it to get everyone thinking. This is what he said, “I would like one of your classmates to answer that for you.”
There was a roar of “ooh, me,” and “I know that,” as everybody raised their arm and waited for Judy to call on someone. “Um, Jake.” Jake, although cheerful, was quite self centered and thought himself higher and smarter then his classmates and said , as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “Oh that's easy. They had weapons and we tried to get them.”
Tabatha, who always disagreed with her brother, blurted out, “That's not it. We didn't even find anything, there was nothing there and George Bush got us in a fix we can't get out of.” Because she had said this without raising her hand, the rule of only talking when called on melted away to nothingness.
The boy in the back, too big for the desk he had sat in for the last three years after failing this class every time, blurted out, “How do you know they didn't move it?”
Tabatha turned around and looked him in the eye. “Who cares? We're still in a war we can't get out of. We retreat they shoot us again.”
Becky, who sat rather close to Tabatha, then said, “Exactly. They'll shoot us again. We're there so they don't terrorize us anymore.”
“I think the real question is who is they,” said Brandon rather dreamily. No one really listened to him though because half the things he said made no sense whatsoever so they ignored him.
“George Bush took us to war to get revenge on them after nine eleven,” Ricky explained.
“He's an idiot, that George Bush,” someone said on the other side of the room.
The conversation went on like this, a constant chatter of politics that was mostly just regurgitation of things their parents had said at one point.
Only one was silent. And that one was Sally. So small and innocent looking with her bright blond hair and glistening blue eyes. So small, in fact, that she was constantly overlooked and didn't bother saying her opinion about anything, which is actually quite sad because Sally is a rather intelligent girl. That moment, she spoke in her usual small voice just at the right moment when there was an exact 3.5 seconds where no one spoke. Everyone stared at the meek girl, seizing their bickering, to watch the rare phenomenon of her speaking.
“Why can't we all just get along and hold hands and share ideas and other things?”
It took a while for Mr. Brown to say anything, “Because we're different.” He almost chose someone else to talk again when Sally made another outburst. “Mr. Brown, that's what everyone says. It makes no sense. I am different from you just as you are different from Tabatha or Becky or Jake. And yet, everyday, we sit here and talk and laugh and cry about things that happened. It's the same thing with the entire world only on a wider scale. Adults say it's more complicated than that, but it's really so simple, any child can explain what it means to get along with someone and not care about the color of their skin or the way they talk or think. You just need to talk. You just have to listen.”
The entire class, Mr. Brown and all the children, contemplated on Sally's reasoning. No one spoke, no one disagreed, nothing happened after that. Some even wished they could hear Sally speak once more. That was when the bell rang and school let out.
As you can see, there was a very good reason for this extraordinary story to be written, to be read, and to be shared with everyone. Go ahead, and tell this story to someone you know, whether it's your best friend or some relative that was three times removed. All they have to do is listen.