004

Ever since I can remember I have been caught at the centre of a war with no victors, no losers, and no sign of peace.

In the beginning the two sides surrounded me. Exposed to ceaseless crossfire, I fled and turned and ran and hid but the fight followed still. To choose a side would be suicide. To turn against both, my demise.

Since then they have closed in. My mind, succumbing to shattering violence, becomes the battlefield itself. The more I resist, the more it hurts. The less I intervene, the more it takes over.

It takes a battalion of troops to open my eyes. It takes a fleet of battleships to get out of bed. It takes a squadron of fighter jets to put on some clothes. Days upon weeks upon months of artillery just to open my door. How much blood must be spilled for me to live like the others?

I did not start this fight. I never could have. So why do the consequences fall on me? I can’t speak until the enemy falls. I’ll stand here until they’re dead — not like I have a choice.

Winning means defeat but defeat means victory. Leave it alone for a second and it comes back stronger. No matter how you look at it, this battle was lost the moment I picked up a weapon.

With one bullet left, can I find the right target? One I could never miss.

I can’t keep control forever.

I’m tired of being tired.