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Friday, January 09, 2009;
War
He threw himself onto the cold, leathered armchair. Slowly, he took a few precious deep breaths and struggled to stand up again. The war had only just begun for five days and it seemed like forever since he had a good rest. His eyes, once gleaming with excitement, were now replaced by a pair of eyes as empty as a bottomless pit. Finally being able to appreciate the silence at home, he sat down and began to plan for the many battles to be fought in time to come. He had no time to lose.
However, the pressure of the pen being pressed against his blistered fingers forced him to drop his pen. Then, tears flowed out from his eyes, over his deep eye-bags and sunken cheeks as he recalled the battles fought every day this week. Out of all his energy draining battles, some fought with his fellow comrades, some fought alone, one made the most impression on him. It was fought with the least preparation, the battle style which his trainers had never taught him before.
It was raining cats and dogs at the battlefield that day. As usual he gripped his weapon hard and started scribbling once the general gave the strike signal. Minutes flew by as he gritted his teeth, determined to overcome all problems shot towards him by the enemy. He told himself he must not succumb to this obstacle which was comparably small when his parents are fighting tougher battles outside this protected battlefield. At last, he won the battle, the first actual battle he went to unassisted. He wore a smile on his face all the way home.
Once again, before the sun had warmed up the Earth, he had already put on his white and blue uniform to get ready to be fetched to the battlefield for another arduous contact-free combat once again. As the sunlight slowly reached his head, streaks of silver and white seemed dazzling among the other dull black hair. The number of streaks counted the number of days since the war had begun. Gradually, the reporting to the battlefield became a routine rather than essential preparation for the Grand Battle.
Day after day, he went from sitting at the table to slumping on the sofa and even started lying on the bed. Like his friends, the mind-boggling battles have come to become a meaningless test to his wits. Little by little, bit by bit, he began to stop winning battles. Instead of trying to conquer more grades, he started to conquer virtual cities and battlefields. As the day of Grand Battle inched nearer and nearer, his superiors also increased the number of sudden attacks on the enemy. He had no choice but to pull up his socks and study.
Finally, the day of the Grand Battle came. He went into the battlefield rubbing his eyes. After the paper, he then collapsed upon his departure from the classrooms. Perhaps it was Judgement Day or the Judgement Year for Timothy who succumbed to extreme exhaustion. He was only 16 and he never woke up to hear his name announced amongst the top students. However, he was not alone in this war. This is the harsh war of secondary four.
-oh i jus cant wait to be KING!!-
KINGWEN POSTED AT x 1/09/2009 09:47:00 PM