Separate Ways

    Chaos. That was the only way you could describe the battlefield. A cacophony of screams and shouts, blades clashing, and pain. I was just another warrior in the ocean of combat. Cutting down those that came before me. A never-ending swarm. Though as I fought, I eventually clashed with another. The clanging metal rang through me. Someone who could properly stand against me? I had nearly forgotten what that felt like. We then battled against each other; parrying, dodging, and swinging our blades. All while never properly landing a critical blow. I had met my match.

    We clashed once more, this time truly looking each other in the eye. We shared a moment of recognition for each other's skill. Though I then saw someone attempting to intervene in our duel. I then parried my opponent's blade and slashed the intruder. I turn back to my match only to see they had done the same to someone else. Recognizing each other's actions, we continued to battle those around us. We cut down dozens around us while seamlessly maneuvering around each other. Eventually, a large foe with an equally large club entered the mix. His presence seemed to deter those around him like an insect repellent. Despite his size, he swung awfully quick, nearly striking us. We dodged opposite ways and his focus shifted to my match. He proceeded to rapidly swing at my match. A wave of protectiveness rolled through me, but before I could enter their fight, another warrior swung at me. I spun around the attack and countered with my own swing landing true. Though like flies, more combatants attacked me. I was being dragged back into the buzzing cacophony. I took a deep breath before decisively carving through the buzz. I made it back to my match's duel with the giant right as another was about to intrude. With his attention on my match, I was able to land a definitive blow upon him. Back into the mix, the giant charged toward us.

    We proceeded forward, taking on the giant from opposite sides. We moved around him like a tornado, repeatedly slashing him when his focus shifted from one to the other. He eventually lashed out, swinging wildly, hitting anything he could. In his frenzy, many warriors fell. The best we could do was continually stay out of his wide range. We then looked to each other, a plan formulating in our minds. After a short conversation of glances, we charged forward. The giant, having spent some of his anger and energy, moved a bit slower than before, making his swings easier to track. I made the first move, parrying his swing, and creating an opening. My match continued off that move, closing in on him. He pulled back from the swing, cocking his arm back to bring his club down. I followed my match's suit, moving in for our final move. The giant brought down his club, though I once again parried, allowing my match to open his throat. This final slash seemed to resonate throughout the battlefield, causing everyone to come to a halt. The giant stumbled about, his trying to delay his fate. Though the inevitable happened and he fell. His fall caused a tremor that all those in close vicinity felt. Silence echoed through the battlefield. I looked back to my match and they looked back at me. Locking eyes, we crossed our blades. The clang of metal could be heard throughout. With that ringing, we went our separate ways.

CSI!

    It was a gray summer day in my hometown. My mom and I were just lounging in our living room doing our individual hobbies. She then brought up how we hadn't gone camping in awhile. After I agreed with her, she then asked if I wanted to go camping. After saying yes, she booked a spot at a campsite. We got ready, packing camping supplies. While we were packing the car, I then looked up at the sky noticing how gray it was. I thought to myself, "It's gonna rain". That was the first of many signs that we weren't supposed to go camping.

    We then headed out, making our way to the campsite. Though on the way, we noticed the car was smoking. That can't be good, we both thought. We pulled over to a gas station and Ma checked under the hood. Come to realize, she just forgot to put the cap back on the oil. Not as grand as gray skies, though still a second sign.

    We then made it to the mountain where the campsite was. Though as we were heading up the mountain, the car malfunctioned. We pull over once more. As we are on the side of the road I then bring up if we're coming across so many obstacles, it's a sign we're not supposed to be doing this. Though the way I phrased was not in the words of a child. I didn't know where that came from. She acknowledged what I said, though we continued nonetheless. The third sign, this time with acknowledgement.

    We then got lost. The sun had fallen for the day, making the mountain roads that more confusing. Not only did we not know how to get to the camp, now we didn't know how to leave. To make matters worse, my mom then saw an animal crossing the road. I didn't get to see it, though it was nothing she could identify. Fourth and possibly fifth signs.

    We then cut our losses and found a way out. Though as we found our way back to the base of the mountain, we then saw bright lights and multiple vehicles. When we got closer, we then saw what was written on the side of one of the vehicles: CSI. This truly shook me. Initially, I was in disbelief. CSI? Criminal Science Investigation? Maybe it's just the TV show crew. Though all the signs (and my intuition) pointed to it being the actual CSI. As we rolled past and stopped by the nearest gas station, Ma then joked "We can still go camping" to which I simply replied... "CSI!" We laughed, ate the food we had gotten earlier (chinese and trail mix), and then made our way home.

Bloom

    I had been buried. Buried in past situations, outdated actions, and curdling emotions... Endlessly this trauma-fueled trio looped, drowning me like a whirlpool. This suffocating loop threatened to keep me buried in darkness. I attempted to drag myself from the pits but the past weighed me down. Again and again I climbed, pushed, grasped for the surface... Only for the weight of the trauma to drag me back down to the depths.

    There were times when I was pulled back down that I pondered staying down. Why keep fighting? Why keep struggling? Why not make my home in this darkness? Why do I have to fight this hard while others seem to still thrive with their darkness...? So I let myself stay down there. The crushing darkness weighing me down further and further. Though upon hitting a new low, experiencing new depths of suffering, I refused it. I refused to continue to experience that low and my resolve recovered. I pushed back, making the climb once more.

    After repeating the cycle so many times, an epiphany occurred to me: let go of the past. Let go of all the falsehoods placed on myself. The miseducation, the voices of others, and patterns instilled through trauma. I did just that, bit by bit, piece by piece, and released the past which weighed me down. Past pain: Released. Past relations which continued the loop: Released. Past behaviours: Released. Finally it came down to one last thing for me to release: My past self... I do just that... It was the most difficult thing to release. Releasing something you were so comfortable with... Though I did it nonetheless.

     Upon that final release, my climb transformed into flight, soaring to the surface. Who knew you could feel so light? Who knew you could feel so free? Eventually I reached the surface, but soon transcend far higher than it. Feeling how light I was, I realized the goal I had striven for was simply the beginning of my flight... It was then I remembered a powerful quote: "No tree can grow to heaven unless it's roots reach down to hell."