World War 3

 

Don’t bring a knife to a gunfight I was told, have your armor on, wear your bulletproof vest to protect your heart, a helmet for your head, a shield, and a sword. I said I understood, or so I thought, but when I saw the enemy, I realized I had a blunt knife. Where did my sword go? Did I bring it with me in the first place? Was I even ready for this fight? I was ready until I wasn’t. This battle was too big for me to fight. The enemy is coming pretty fast and I’m transfixed, I can’t move, I can only stand and watch, the more I try to get out of this situation the worse it becomes.

Looking at both sides, I am alone on the battlefield, I take the first blow, I fall, and I stand up. The second blow, I fall, I don’t just fall, I fall hard and at this point, I cannot stand up anymore. I try to fight back and throw some punches here and there but I’m too weak. This battle is mine to fight, I can wait for reinforcement but why wait for something that’s not coming?

My limbs are broken, and a knife is in my heart I’m bleeding, and my vision is blurred. The enemy is gone, left me half dead. That was his work, wasn’t it? To finish me off, make me part of history. I wasn’t breathing, my lungs almost failed me, my heart almost stopped, and the enemy thought I was dead and left me to be devoured by the hungry scavengers.

But I couldn't let him win. Not that easily, a surge came through me, I crawl to safety, with the earth biting through my skin. I am left with scars, some of which I don’t think will heal. They will be with me my whole life leaving ugly marks. Others will fade and vanish as if they didn’t exist. I won’t forget, that am sure of. The ghosts of the past will haunt me. Maybe I should make peace with them. Should I be their friend? Maybe, maybe not.

If I knew then what I know now, maybe things would have been different, lesson learned the hard way. I was strong but the enemy was stronger. I’ll be ready for the next one. That I’m sure of, but for now, World War 3, I have been captured, I lost.