Life as a Battlefield: A Personal Metaphor

Eman Zaheer Personal Metaphor

The deafening sounds of gun shots filled the air only to be united with the shrilling sound of a scream I couldn’t decipher as my own or another’s. Bullets are shot towards a man I have never known, my ammunition being my only friends to help me through a dark war of death. Fighting for so long, it’s almost impossible a time where I haven’t wanted to wave my white flag, to surrender, and to give up. Yet, through the injuries and the white tears I fight in this war, as I go through my path through life. My life is a war, of lifeless bodies and the triumphant victories.

A gun set in my hands and ammo at my side. At war with weapons, my ammo are my friends keeping me alive through seemingly impossible scenarios.

My mind was in an endless trance of tapping my foot against my chair, making the desk creek like an old rocking chair.

The clock’s ceaseless ticking went on key with the groaning of the fan. The room lit only by a faint light of a window and the glow of a laptop. My head groaned in pain along with the loud hum of the computer. My eyes slowly moved from word to word, studying every crevice in the lines. My hands moved without thought, calculating each problem in every way possible. My hands moved in robotics motions only to be accompanied my gears in my head shifting to thinking about how badly I was going to fail this midterm.

My mind spun into disaster, my brain suffocating me of oxygen and yelling that I was a disappointment. My stomach churned making my throat an acidic wasteland making my voice to vanish into thin air. My eyes stung as hot tears ran down my cheeks, leaving puffs of pink under my eyes.

My phone rang a toon known to me as the sound of my friend calling. I slumped out of my chair and dragged my lifeless feet to the table to get my phone. My hand grabbed the phone and answered regardless of my mind’s tricks. There was a second on silence before a cheerful voice spoke on the other

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“Emaaaaaaan hurry up, we’re outside your house,” she spoke enthusiastically.
My mind pounded, screaming at me that if I went I would fail. Yet I grabbed my jacket, wiped my tears and ran downstairs.
“Bye!” I yelled to my parents running out the door to the grey SUV up front.
The doors opened and I climbed in. The pain and sorrow disappeared seeing my friends smiling and happy to see me.
“Hey how’s studying for 7th grade midterms going,” My friend Sibel said emphasizing that she was in eighth grade now.
Absolutely terrible I thought, I want to die and I’ve only broken down three times today.
“It’s pretty okay,” I mumbled.
“I hate midterms, I hope they die in a hole along with me,” Angela said slouching in her seat.
Before my mind could stop it, my mouth formed into a smile and laughter found its way through the opening of my mouth. The laughter went through my ears like a soft wind and blew all my worries away. The weight on my stomach vanished along with the acidic wasteland of my throat instead replaced with an overflow joy. My friends joined in with laughter and happiness and saved me from the treacherous sea of anxiety.
The rest of the day was a whirlpool of bliss. My worries faded and I enjoyed my day along with my friends away from the jail cell that was studying for my math midterm. Before I knew it I was in my math class ready for the test. Instead of anxiety, I had confidence because of my friends. They became my ammunition, which helped me tackle the enemy of my math midterm.
My hands shook, knuckles white clenching my gun.
I don’t want to fight anymore I thought what’s the point? I just want to stop, wave my white flag. Why not, at least I won’t die.
“I SURRENDER!” I yelled without hesitation.
I laid under the covers of my bed, feeling nothing on the inside. My eyes stared at the photo, blank on what to think. The light emitted from my phone burned into my eyes.
What do I even feel I thought am I angry or sad? Pathetic, that’s what I am, I can’t even figure out my own feelings, no wonder they decided to not invite me.
It was only 7 pm but I already wanted to go to sleep and forget all the troubles. I pulled the covers over my head and laid there, waiting for the darkness of sleep to take me over but, it never did, left me to lay there, tortured by my own thoughts.
At least do something productive, my mind whined behind closed eyes.
My legs swung themselves over the bed and onto the rough carpet, dragging themselves onto the chair in front of my desk. The picture of my friends hanging out, without me on Instagram burned into my brain, causing my eyes to water out of sadness. My heart seared in pain and my cheeks burned as tears flowed down them.
Idiot! I thought, really you’re crying now? No wonder they don’t like you.
I wiped my tears on my shirt, swiftly as if it had never happened. My hands opened the laptop and went straight to YouTube as if they knew it would make me feel better. My eyes scrolled through the videos on my home everyone making me more morbid, seeing all the friendship and happiness in their eyes. I shut the tab and my put my hands against my head in defeat.
Well I had this coming, I thought all my friends always leave for better people, it was too good to last.
A sudden sound, I had recognized as one of excitement and happiness rung through my headphones. Only this once, it felt as if it was one of betrayal and sorrow. I answered the skype call unaware of what was about to happen. There was a long silence.
“Hi,” I croaked through the desert that was my throat.
“Yo,” My friend Angela yelled from the other side.
“Heyyy,” Ariana and Mellissa said in union.
“Hey,” I mumbled “ So what’re you all doing?”
“eh nothing really, I have some family around at my house right now,” Mellissa lied.
I guess she thinks I didn’t see the photo before she deleted it I thought. They’re lying to me now! Not only did they not invited me they can’t even man up and tell me!
I went with their lies. My cheeks burned with anger and it took all my might not to yell at them. I clenched my fists in anger. My head boiled with rage.
My mind came up with a terrible sentence, ones with words that would cut through their skin like knives. To make their stomach drop and leave them speechless. I was torn. Did I want to make my friends ashamed that they didn’t invite me? Or let them think they got away with it? One side of my was screaming to let them know that I felt this way in a kind way, but another wanted to let war loose on them, screaming in tears of anger. They continued to laugh over the skype message and I just sat there, silent, thinking.
Just choose my mind yelled. They deserve it, let war loose! But they are your friends so how about a nice paragraph. My mind fought back and forth before both sides had surrendered and I had lost.
“uh bye guys!” I said quietly “I’m just going to go to bed.” They replied in a union of bye, aw and see you laters, but all I heard was “Bye you won’t be missed.”
I left, flew my white flag of surrender and lost my battle, by staying quiet and not standing up.
My commands are yelled from somewhere far off. The blasts of cannons and shots of guns. Adrenaline rushing through my body. Everything blurred. The only thing in focus, my target, the enemy, I win this battle or die trying.
I sat there shifting uncomfortably in my seat. I picked up and restacked my papers as if they needed restacking after the fifth time. I wiped my clammy hands on my jeans and readjusted my hair. The opponents sat there with smirks on their faces as if they knew they were going to win no matter what.
I am so screwed I thought.
The teacher sat down and studied the names behind the clipboard as she made an announcement “this is our first debate, the topic is should parent physically hit children? Go!”
The first girl on the other side stood up and coughed, to show her professionalism.
She is going to beat us, I thought.
Her speech was flawless, every point perfectly stated with stumbling over the words. My teammate stood up quietly, and stated our questions. She didn't seem fazed at all. My stomach twisted into a knot and all the moisture in my mouth vanished.
Darn it I thought I knew I should have done more research.
“Now that the rebuttal is over it is time for the negative side of the debate, their side is that parents should not hit their children,” Ms. Moncriffe said.
My partner stood up, confident and stated his facts, ending with Ms. Moncriffe scribbling something down in her check board.
It probably says failed I imagined.
The next speech went faster than I had hoped, again being flawless, with words that flowed over the tongue like a stream. The rebuttal went terrible, I had no questions for them, their speeches were too good.
Shoot, it's my turn now, I thought.
I stood up, demanding my feet not to shake and my hands not to tremble. My heart pounded, adrenaline rushing through my body. I tapped my fingers against my papers, waiting for my que.
You totally got this I thought trying to reassure myself.
Ms. Moncriffe pointed towards me and I started, my mind went to fast for my mouth and I stumbled over the first few sentences.
Calm down, I thought my heart beats faster than a race horse.
I took a deep breathe and read the rest of my speech without hesitation and trouble. I waited patiently for the rebuttal, taking long deep breaths to calm myself. My brain took over. Answering the questions coming at me like darts hitting the target every time. The debate finally ended and I looked over at the class who was now voting. First they had voted for the other team.
“Eman and Brady,” Ms. moncriffe shouted.
Most of the class raised their hands instantly.
“Well we all know who the winner is then,” Ms. Moncriffe said “Eman and Brady.”
The class of 20 cheered but to me it felt like a stadium. My mouth formed into a grin and I was overjoyed. I walked back to my seat calmly but in my mind I was skipping with happiness.
I fought my battle and won. The cheerful cries of my fellow soldiers as the enemy surrendered. This battle was won, but many more were to come.